


From Blood, We're Torn

by screaming_angels



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Blood and Gore, Combat, Depression, F/F, F/M, Family Issues, Female Protagonist, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Guns, Gunshot Wounds, Heavy Angst, Knives, M/M, OCs - Freeform, POV Female Character, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Shooting Guns, Smoking, Strength, Trauma, War, aw but there'll be fluff too dont worry, but mainly angst, it's just easier with a set last name okay, love me my angst, modern civil war, shit ton of angst again seriously, thank u for ur understanding, you have a set last name
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-30
Updated: 2019-05-28
Packaged: 2019-05-31 11:00:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 11
Words: 38,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15117965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/screaming_angels/pseuds/screaming_angels
Summary: Two years after monsters found their way to the surface, a terrible war between humans and monsters broke out. The war has lasted three long years and society is crumbling. It has found its way into all people and all walks of life--including your own. You have been dragged into a war you wanted nothing to do with, and now, you must fight for it and for justice for your past.





	1. "Ideal" Trooper

**Author's Note:**

> Title credit to my amazing friend MentallyMrsWinchester! After my first story, I feel like I have a much more structured sense of where this one will go. There will be a lot of OCs in this story due to the nature of it, so if that isn't your cup of tea, you might want to keep that in mind. I'm very excited to start this story as I've been planning it for about a year and a half! Hope you all enjoy.

You had always been the  _ ideal _ trooper. Ever since the shaky peace between monsters and humans had finally broke, your country’s government had crumbled. As a human, you went with your fellow species, as any  _ sane _ person would. You’d lost a lot of weight since the battles started. Personally, you hadn’t fought in one. Yet. Not with monsters, at least. Not in a battle that people would care about.

It was your  _ duty _ to be fit. And so you were. When things had been peaceful, you’d never been in the healthiest shape, persay. Now, your life depended on those abs you used to joke about. Your life depended on the skills you had learned. Firing a gun, blowing shit up, avoiding fire--all the good stuff.

You were a quick learner, because it was  _ vital. _ One of the best in your area. Though you’d never been in war with anyone outside of those who fought in the streets, you were coveted. That’s why you were headed straight to the front lines, and straight to one of the top troops. They called your side the “Humans.”

Real creative name. Not that the other side was any better. Widely, they were called “Monsters,” though here, they were called “Scum.”

That was so the Humans could include the fellow homosapiens that had joined the troops of the Monsters as ‘part’ of the Monsters. They were fucking disgraceful, after all.

 

In summary, you were a pretty good shot, clever enough, didn’t ask questions, fit, ate little, drank only as much as you had to, and didn’t complain.

The ideal trooper.

 

Did you mention you were also a liar?

 

The Humans were so full of  _ shit _ . You knew perfectly well that the Monsters were only fighting because they would be dead if they didn’t. History was all the proof you needed.

This was not the first war monsters had been forced into by humans. (Surprise, surprise, humans never mentioned in history classes that it was  _ them  _ who stuck the monsters underground, or for that matter, that monsters even existed.)

On top of that, your disdain for the Humans involved their dehumanization of monsters. Monsters weren’t too different from humans. They looked weird and could use magic. End of story. End of differences. They were so similar that humans and monsters could have  _ children _ together.

Sure, monsters could be  _ dangerous. _ Not any more dangerous than a human with a gun though, and you could bet your petty ass that those were everywhere.

The fact that humans were so unaccepting of non-humans was ridiculous to you. Sometimes, sure, you got why people were unaccepting of seeing all life forms as their equal. That mosquito was not your equal, but how could you compare monsters to  _ bugs? _ Monsters had the exact same mental capacity as humans did and could feel anything a human could feel.

Of course, you’d seen this situation before, but it was just as foolish then. That person’s skin color didn’t make them lesser or better than you. Or their gender, or whatever. The mind inside was what you found to be most valuable. It made you yourself, whether you’d be good or bad, introverted or extroverted, all of it. Outside forces also had impact upon how your brain functioned, but the mind was what made one truly  _ oneself _ .

You found yourself falling down the train of thought, and began to think about how you were  _ supposed _ to think, according to the Humans.

If anyone asked you, you thought that the Scum were gonna get the hell beaten out of them and this time, they’d be going extinct.

 

You did have a cover to keep.

Currently, you and about forty other traitors were acting as spies for Monster troops. Some had already been ratted out and killed, but they were loyal to their cause. None of your names had been leaked yet. Thankfully.

For the most part, you didn’t care about many people. The war had killed most of the people you'd once known, and you were separated from the rest.

In fact, the only person you had was Felicity Maycombe, a petite, blonde girl who was  _ ‘Scum’ _ hidden in Human ranks just like you.

Young Maycombe had long, extremely curly hair that she kept wound up so tightly in two little buns that her face seemed stretched out, making her watery gray eyes open alarmingly wide. The right side of her face had scars peppered all along it, but especially below her eye from a bad fall she’d had when her face had been ground into the pavement. The girl was your age, but acted younger the majority of the time. She wasn’t very brawny or really brainy, but she was agile and somewhat ominously fantastic at shooting. On occasion, you wondered if she had some sort of super-powered contacts that gave her vision like an extraterrestrial being.

Unlike yourself, Felicity had been in the higher division for a while, and had been in four or five battles. When you first met her, you were surprised. Felicity was the kind of person who was so paranoid of hurting other's feelings, she took every single option into consideration before acting on anything. She had a twinkling sort of dialect, like the type elves spoke in in movies. It was a very cheery, smooth way of speaking. The idea that such a kindly girl had been in war already seemed unreal to you in every sense of the word. At times, you would find yourself wondering about the battles Felicity had participated in, since the fairy-like woman never talked about them.

In order to maintain your cover, you tried not to ask questions. A long time ago, you used to ask questions all the time, and still were tempted to at times even now, but war had whittled away your interest in the world almost entirely, more specifically your interest in other people. The few questions that came to you were ignored and eventually forgotten, similarly to the fallen civilians. You figured that the only person whose more intimate or personal questions you would answer would be Felicity, but she didn’t ask you those questions. A part of you imagined that Felicity felt similarly. However, even if you didn’t have an act to hold up of never being inquisitive, you would not have dreamed of asking Felicity something she would not openly tell you.

The two of you went to meetings of traitors together. Felicity had introduced you to them, being a long-time undercover agent. You had joined the Human’s side for your own reasons, but you joined Felicity in her betrayal without nearly any hesitation. The meetings were always held in secret and late at night, usually when others were patrolling or when traitors were able to patrol together. The rare few times you didn’t meet up in small sections, there was some sort of massive issue being discussed. One of the traitors had managed to get themselves into the role of a general, and would summon your mini fleet to discuss your options.

The most important meeting you had been to was when everyone first began to discuss ways to rescue the Ambassador. They had been captured during battle, and were being held hostage. Some communication with the Monster troops revealed that they wouldn’t be currently able to rescue the Ambassador themselves.

The first plan was a relatively simple one: Get the Ambassador in secret and quickly, and then get out.

The plan didn't work.

Many aspects of the plan were flawed, but the biggest uh-oh of it was the fact that no one was allowed near the Ambassador unless they had special clearance. You couldn’t even manage to get into the same building as the Ambassador without completely crippling your entire operation and putting all the traitors at extreme risk. The general among you wasn’t able to clear anyone else and wasn’t able to get the Ambassador out alone.

Plan #2 consisted of a small group of people distracting those inside, blowing the building they were held in to kingdom come, getting the hero of the Monsters, and getting right back out.

This raised many levels of complexity that would be detrimental to you all. Firstly, despite knowing what  _ room _ the Ambassador was being held in, not a single one of you had a lick of an idea how to know that they would not be simultaneously exploded when you destroyed the building. The second question, one that Felicity had asked, was what kind of distraction would hinder every single guard useless at once? If you were going to use force to distract them, it would be better to just use force in general. If not force, then what would work to distract them?

This discussion was what brought about the final plan, and why the honors of executing it were given to Maycombe.

You’d have to find some way to incapacitate the majority of the Human troops before any other funny business. There was few of you, yet many reinforcements of them.

Some of the cleverer people in your group were able to create a strategy that would have a high success rate, and for a while, Felicity Maycombe was a prodigy for the plan.

Kinks and flaws had been weeded out of the plan to the best of everyone’s capabilities, and at the end of it, it was nearly impeccable.

The barracks would be blown to hell while the majority of troopers were inside. The goal wouldn’t be to kill them--it was to trap them. The general would place nearly all traitors as patrollers, and then the rest was the part where Maycombe came into action.

About a month had passed since the scheme formed, and the ideal time finally arrived. This was gonna be it. The traitors (or at least a significant majority of them) were going to out themselves. For everyone, this was a massive step. Even traitors in other camps. Secret messages that had once been able to go to Monster forces and fellow traitors would no longer be anything but grueling.

The Human army would be absolutely floored.

Especially since all the people that were in this division were supposed to be screened and proven to not be traitors. It was a very small sample of people that were with you, in all honesty, but you  _ were _ some of the best soldiers out there.

You held the small metal device in your coat pocket, rubbing your thumb gently over its button. Felicity was anxiously fiddling with her rifle, but you knew she was ready to get her detonator when the signal was fired.

All the traitors had formed lines as they were supposed to outside camp, and were waiting among the unsuspecting Humans. On your left, Felicity acted very jumpy. Normal for her, luckily enough. Felicity seemed to be riddled with fear everywhere she went when faced with the duty to potentially kill someone, and she was always about to cry. On your right, a tall man stood. Easily, he towered over you. You knew he wasn’t part of the traitors.

You’d have to take care of him first, or he’d be able to get the upper hand.

It was a rule that you showed no fear to anyone, because that gave them power, power that would not be able to be revoked. The rule applied to everyone, but you were the only one that you knew of aware of it completely.

For instance, on the outside, you kept a cold, emotionless face, with the occasional grimace. On the inside, your heart was drumming quickly, and you were breaking out in a mild sweat.

This mission was going to be a miracle if more than four people survived. Not only were the Human forces preparing to go into battle, but this was going to be a massacre. Both sides. The plan had always been well aware that most of you were not going to make it out.

You were most likely going to be one of them. And though you hadn’t fulfilled the reason you joined the war, you at least could help others in possibly doing it for you.

A surly man with a scraggly beard stomped over to you as he patrolled the lines. “Maycombe! The hell you think you’re doing?!” What was his name? Rodney, perhaps. You didn’t care enough to ask the general if he was indeed Rodney.

“Nothing, sir!” Felicity said, instantly holding herself steady.

He crossed his arms. “No, not a thing besides us.”

For a second, you forgot the plan.

You just stared into the fellow traitor’s eyes, confused by his dialogue. His words weren’t only phrased incorrectly, but even if they had been mashed together in a less queer way, they would still make no sense. You started working out what he meant as fast as you could.

And then, you remembered, the adrenaline spiking.

Felicity was faster than you, as was everyone else, it appeared. Their buttons had been pressed, and you could hear the base be blown to bits from behind you. Hot air gusted behind you as you finally clicked your button.

As you looked over to him, you noticed the man beside you was handsome. His hair was very short, but dark. It was easy to tell it used to be very glossy, which complimented his olive skin and emerald eyes. Creases in his skin outlined the smile that he must have worn a few years ago.

The series of shots masked the sound of your own shot hitting him squarely between the eyes.

He crumpled to the ground, and you kept moving.

Some would have been hurt, terrified, drop their gun, cry. Others would think of his friends and pets and lost life. Your duty was none of those things. It was your duty to keep going. And you did.

You ran, firing shots at the people you knew that were allied against you. In the chaos, you could hear people screaming, trying to form ranks. Felicity fired into the crowd, hitting one of the men through the jaw and out the skull. Cracks and explosions of gunfire rang in your ears, and a bit of smoke began to impair your vision.

Carnage had broken out, and all around, there were dead people. Some were not those allied with Humans. As best you could, you maintained a straight face and fired into the crowd, killing two more people. You thought about how it had not even been two minutes.

You thought about your mission and forgot the bodies strewn about.

The “Perhaps-But-Not-Absolutely-Certainly-Rodney” man who had signaled for you to begin the attack started yelling for Felicity to carry on like she was supposed to.

All you could hear was the gunshots and the buzz in your ears after that, seeing Felicity hightail it for the building the Ambassador had been held in.

You were supposed to look away, but it was hard. You didn’t want it to be the last time you saw Felicity. You were worried. Even though she could take care of herself easily, she was still very petite and innocent in many ways.

The man who had been designated as her cover started running beside her, blasting his gun away. As you shot into the dusk, hiding behind a bit of wall as cover, you saw the little blonde bob out of sight behind a building. Pangs hit you hard for a moment, but you managed to bite back your fear, watching the area she had fled from. You were here to kill as many Human soldiers as you could while she left. Your hand began to reach for your knife.

Joseph, the man who was to protect her and the Ambassador, was hit in the neck by a bullet, leaving your friend without cover. You did not think about the unnatural way blood sprayed from his neck. You did not think about how Joseph’s kids would not ever see their father again. You did not think about Joseph’s husband, who would never be the same.

The plan was all that was of importance, and with Joseph gone this early, the plan was compromised. 

You wouldn’t be able to do your less important part in the plan while this crucial role needed to be filled. You stopped reaching for your knife and made your choice.

Running towards your friend and leaping over Joseph’s dead body, you seized the woman by the collar of her shirt pushed her to go faster.

“Where’s Jo?!” she shouted, running a little ahead of you.

The screams were filling up your head.

The sour tang of metallic ammonia invaded your nose.

The smoke from the explosions was making your eyes scream, water, and burn.

The people running behind you with intent to kill the two of you made your heart sicken with terror.

“Dead! MOVE!”

You weren’t supposed to ask questions. Time to grieve came later. Put it off as long as you can. The two of you kept running, you turning to fire shots multiple times with Felicity.

The building holding the Ambassador was near. A small, shitty building, but still dangerous. You threw the one grenade you had at the wall when you knew it would be close enough.

There was no time to waste.

Another explosion, and now a large hole in the side of the building. Felicity ran harder and faster.

Again, you turned to fire some shots, seeing from your peripheral vision the little backup you had beginning to snipe those stalking you. There wasn’t many left of the Humans now. Ten people were shooting at you.

The man in the front fell dying as your bullet pierced his heart. You were turning back to look ahead of yourself and join Felicity inside the building when  _ that _ shot hit you.

It would have killed you had you still been looking the other way.

Your cheek felt like it was melting from the heat of the shot and the blood coming from the nick of the wound. This was something that would definitely not be fatal (unless it became infected), but would likely scar.

Tears burned at your eyes, but you pushed them back and kept going. You would not give in to pain.

The rest of the men and women running towards you were not going to catch up with you, you knew. With the backup that had just shown up and started firing, each of them were as good as dead. Had they been in battle before? Many if not all of them were great shots, so why had they missed you?

Were they so scared and shocked that it rattled their senses?

Or were they focusing on those behind them, the ones who were more imminent threats?

No. No questions. Keep running.

 

People in the hallways--interrogators, mainly-- began to shoot at you. Their bullets missed the two of you mercifully, yet hit a man who had been coming up behind you.

The only reason you knew it was a man was from how he screamed. Whether he was on your side or not, he wasn’t getting back up.

Felicity raised her gun and hit two of the men in the head swiftly, and turned the corner to where the Ambassador was kept. You shot at the third person, wasting two bullets before you finally caught the spindly woman in the leg.

You suddenly felt sick. She didn’t have a gun. She’d just been following the others.

You stared at her for a moment as she stayed down, crying out. You found yourself lowering your gun, and saying to her, “I’m sorry,” in a slightly shaky voice.

You turned and shot another man who was aiming at you, ignoring the woman’s shouts and pushed forwards. You couldn’t kill her. You couldn’t.

When you turned around, the sight you were met with was five traitors running behind you, watching your back.

Surely that was all that was left now. Seven out of forty.

You started shooting at the few men following Felicity’s path to aid your comrades, but one of the traitors caught you and dragged you back to continue following the pixy.

“You an’ me, we’re watchin’ her back! Move it, lady!”

You followed his order in silence, sprinting down the hall towards an open room at the end of it.

The two of you burst into the room and the man slammed the door shut, locking it tightly and barricading it. His dark skin was beaded with sweat.

You ran to Felicity, who was standing before who you could only assume was the Ambassador Frisk Dreemurr.

The kid had shaggy, chestnut hair, olive skin, and half-lidded dark umber eyes. They were wearing a shabby violet and teal striped jacket, and had one of their hands stuffed in the pockets. They looked extremely thin and gaunt, but their face was stony. Their face seemed it was just changing from baby-ish to mature.

The Ambassador seemed to be about fourteen or fifteen. You were shocked, since you had always expected them to be older, in their twenties or something. Before the war broke out, they didn’t show their face much if at all. All of their speeches were read by other people, but they still seemed mature.

You had never realized that they were just a kid, nor had the thought ever occurred to you that they  _ could _ be a kid. 

They held themselves like an adult, though, so perhaps that aided your assumption.

“There’s no other way out here,” Frisk said simply. “Do any of you guys have something to blow up a wall or something? That’s our only shot.”

The calmness of the kid startled you as well, but you took it.

The man grabbed a small device from his hip. “Won’t make a big hole, but this’ll get you about a foot all around to get out in.”

Felicity snatched it and attached it to the wall that led to the outside world. She jumped back as soon as she pressed the button, covering her head.

The explosion was small, and made a hole that was about as big as promised. Felicity only looked a little silly for covering her head when the rubble barely reached her feet.

As you began to crowd around the hole, a new sound made itself known. Pounding at the door. 

The people screaming were not with you, just based off how they screamed, “ _ SCUM! _ GET ANYONE WE’VE STILL GOT ALIVE, WE NEED BACKUP! NOW!”

The first one out was Felicity, then the kid, then yourself, and then the man.

You went to hand the Ambassador your pistol (you had other weapons that you could use), but they just shook their head. “I’m left-handed,” they told you coolly. “I can’t shoot well with my right.” They continued to move. At first, their comment didn’t register as to why it was relevant-- but then the kid with the shaggy brown hair showed their bandaged hand as they ran in front of you.

The little finger and ring finger were gone.

 

You expected torture, so it made sense as to why it happened.

  
  


But they were a kid.

 

It reminded you so much of--

 

Stop before you get ahead, ____.

  
  


The sounds of the door being blown up registered to you, and it motivated you to keep running. “Where’s the camp, kid?” the man demanded, bolting down the ruins of the city that worked as your base and home for half a year.

They said nothing, but Frisk began to run harder and faster, and you all followed. Everything about your body ached, and you would have killed for a glass of water to sooth your lungs, but you pushed yourself harder, until you could taste blood.

Your cheek hurt like fucking hell, as did one of your legs.

You had no idea what the fuck happened to your left leg in-fucking-particular, but it was evidently giving up on you in some way.

The man noticed your odd run, and grabbed you, pulling you forwards. His hand was drenched in sweat and blood.

You didn’t know who the blood belonged to, but you didn’t ask.

 

It wasn’t your place to ask questions, after all.

 

Ambassador Frisk led you through a maze of rubble. The shouts behind you went silent, and you were finally slowing down a bit.

You found the smallest amount of humor from how much shorter Felicity was than Frisk, but mainly you were on edge, scared, and grumpy.

_ Fuck, _ your cheek hurt. You held it tightly, and even though the bleeding had now stopped, it was now still cheerily alerting you that it was in pain. Felicity had bandaged it as best as she could, but the band-aid did little to lessen the pain.

Thanks, cheek and nerve cells  _ and  _ pain receptors, you fucking douche-shits.

Speaking of pain, your leg was still hurting. Though you were not 100% sure, you felt like you might have pulled a muscle.

Needless to say, your mood dramatically worsened.   
  


Back at the base, with all the smoke, you were sure you would not have been able to see, but you were at a distance far enough away that stars glimmered in the sky above.

It reminded you of when you used to go stargazing with your family, as they did every night you saw the beautiful spectacles.

It reminded you of your mother, your father, your little sister, and your little brother. Your brother had never been any sort of company that you desired, but the other three were some of your favorite people when you’d been around them. Especially your sister. You loved your younger sister more than you loved anyone else. It’d been a while since you’d been with her. Being away from her hurt you deeply.

Thinking of them reminded you of your closest friend. You wondered what happened to her.

She’d always been a huge monster advocate, and it made you feel just a bit less stony when you imagined her helping the Monsters, all of her sarcasm full force. Your mind traveled to your little sister again, who was just like a best friend. A twinge hit your heart, and you shut your eyes tightly.

You forced yourself back into the real world, marching at a quick pace beside Felicity, Frisk, and the man.

Somewhere, from an area further away, you could hear backup rushing to aid the carnage you had wrought. But that sound died off quickly, and after about ten minutes, you couldn’t hear anything at all.

It was silent as you fled for a good two or three hours, only stopping occasionally to drink.

Felicity and the man (who had rather irritatedly introduced himself as Konner Preston after giving into Felicity’s pestering) had fallen asleep. You wondered how many miles away from Maven (that was the name of the base, rather uncreative) you were. All of this terrain was new to your eyes.

The Ambassador was not sleeping, and was instead inspecting their hand.

They turned to you and said, “So you’re ____.” They must've heard Felicity talking earlier.

“Yes. And you’re the Ambassador.” 

“I never thought we’d meet.”

You turned to them and scrunched your face up, not wanting to take in any bullshit today. “I’m an ordinary soldier, and not one of those war heroes. If you’re thinking of a ____ that's worthy of meeting, you’re thinking of someone else.”

“No, it’s about  _ you _ . From the letters.”

“I never used my real name in my letters. Like I said, you’re thinking of someone else.”

“What was your codename?” The kid was examining their hand, turning it all around.

“Codename was ‘Camper.’ I addressed all my messages like I was talking to a grandfather.”

“Oh.” A small tint rose on their cheeks, and they rubbed their neck with their good hand. “I never saw yours, then.”

You were slightly incredulous. You gave the kid a scathing look, judging them. “You thought we used our  _ real names _ . In  _ codes.” _

The kid looked at you indignantly. “ _ No! _ I just exchanged a lot of letters with a ____, and they acted all cranky and bitchy in their letters like you do. I drew two and two together.”

You ignored their insult, and instead pointed to their hand. They were more important matters than arguing. “When’s the last time your bandages were changed.”

Questions were acceptable when talking about things like injuries. One of the few. Health was above your rules, even though you had a hard time phrasing questions as questions anymore.

Frisk frowned at you, jarred by the change of topics, but answered, “Yesterday. Or somewhere near it. There was no sunlight in that box.”

“And when were they amputated.”

“Right after I got there.”

“Alright,” you said, tensing a little. “You’re probably fine until we get to your camp.” You had no idea if that was true or not. Your time on the streets hadn’t done much to teach you of infections; it only made you aware that if you weren’t dead a month or more after a bad injury, you were most likely not going to be.

“Yeah, I guess.” They cracked their knuckles, and looked down sadly. “I never wanted there to be a fight, you know? I never wanted anyone to get hurt.”

“Sometimes people get hurt anyways,” you replied, pulling out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. 

You felt cold inside, and to distract yourself, put the pack of cigarettes back into one of your pockets after getting one out. One of the things you liked best about your leather coat was the amount of pockets. They were handy for ammo and for holding lots of little things. Felicity claimed that the jacket was ugly, but you told her that you had more things to worry about than fashion. She then retorted that if that was the case, you should’ve chosen a more flexible jacket than leather. You told her that the pockets evened out the drawbacks.

Felicity heartily disagreed with you, but she dropped it.

You lit the cigarette, and began to smoke it. The Ambassador turned back to you, nose wrinkled. “You smoke?”

“Sometimes,” you answered. “It lets off some stress.”

“They kill you,” Frisk told you flatly, pointing at the cigarette.

“Shucks. I’ve never heard that before,” you drawled. The smoke faded as it trailed higher in the sky. You watched it idly, twirling your cigarette between your fingers.

“They  _ do _ though. Is lung cancer worth it?”

“Listen. I’m not a super-commander-spokesperson like you are,  _ Ambassador _ Frisk.” You stressed ‘Ambassador’ as you took another hit from your cigarette. “I’m most likely gonna die out there. And if I get captured, there isn’t gonna  _ be _ a rescue team like there is for _ you _ . So I’d rather live less stressed now than die like a pulsing ulcer.”

“But what if you don’t die?”

“They don’t kill you if you don’t smoke a lot of them,” you said as sternly as possible, trying to emphasize that you were done with the subject and, more importantly, that you didn't really care if you lived or died. You brought the cigarette away from your lips and blew some smoke. The wisps circled around themself, entwining and traversing between each other. They faded away into the darkness.

Young Frisk seemed to understand, and then reverted back to their softly closed eyes instead of their narrowed ones. They leaned back, letting out a soft grumble of disagreement.

“You should get some sleep, Ambassador. You’re our lead, after all.”

“I’m not tired.”

“Then let’s keep it that way. Go to sleep.”

They grumbled louder, and laid down, using their hands as a headrest, curling up into a little ball.

Before they fell asleep, they asked you one last thing. “What’s your last name, ____?”

A little surprised, you answered, “Harris.”

They nodded a little, then shut their eyes and began to try to sleep.

Maybe, in another life, you would have ruffled their hair.

But this was not that life.


	2. Friend

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im still super excited about this story! i've got a few chapters all written out already and it's been nice taking a little break from it for a while :) enjoy yall!

Konner traded off with you during the night, but you didn’t sleep.

In all honesty, though you’d never admit it to anyone, you were terrified. Not only had you just killed quite a few people that you’d spent a good long time with, you had just committed treason. Huge treason. Your head was going to be on a pike. Your face was going to be plastered everywhere. And everyone would know about you.

Everyone...

And more backup was there by now for sure. You hadn’t run across any, but it only seemed to be a matter of time. Your ears twitched at every noise, fearing you’d hear a signal or the sounds of footsteps marching or cars or worst of all, the sputtering sound of a chopper. There was only so much you could do. Sure, hiding in a covered area with people keeping watch limited risks, and the fact that a lot of the more elite soldiers were dead was lucky for you, but there was nothing you could do to totally eliminate the potential annihilation.

The paranoia was eating at you, corroding all your senses to high levels. Each sound was the sound of someone coming to slice your throats like butter, each smell was the smell of toxic gas to make your insides curdle and fall out of you like maggots, each touch was the touch of the barrel of a gun, prepared to blast your brains all around you, each taste was the taste of poison that had been snuck into your palette somehow, each shadow was that of a hidden trooper.

Needless to say, you kept a tight grip on your gun, ensuring that it had plenty of ammo.

Time seemed like it loved to play around with people. It would go so painstakingly slow at any bad moment, yet speed right the hell up whenever something good happened. You wished you could turn it back, turn it back to way before there was ever a war. Nothing  _ good  _ had come from it. The most it had done was fuck everything up and ruin everything around you. You’d take back the debt and the bills and the busy streets with asshole drivers if it meant that this war never happened.

But you couldn’t take it back.

A loud shuffle from behind you made you shoot up, aiming your gun directly at the sound, wide-eyed and and breathing heavily through your nose. Konner looked alert, and had whipped his gun back out at you. He let out a soft laugh when he made eye contact with you.

You did not return the favor.

“Ya scared me,” he told you sheepishly. “I guess I stood up a little too fast.”

You said nothing, glaring at him as you put down your gun. You bitterly put on your jacket. “We should get moving again. Better to move before daybreak.”

Konner nodded silently. “You’re right.” He shifted to his left, nudging the Ambassador with the toe of his boot. Frisk groaned, grumbling into their arm. They sat up, giving Konner a look of pure venom.

You knelt down and shook Felicity by the shoulder gently. When she didn’t wake, you squeezed her shoulder with less tenderness. Similarly to Frisk, she whined as she got up. Typically, Maycombe wasn’t much of a deep sleeper, but she had her bad days.

“Keep walking, kiddo,” Konner said, patting Frisk on the shoulder. “How far away’re we?”

“About five, six days walking, I think. Not sure. They probably tried to move closer, but if they didn’t, it might take a few weeks.”

“We’ll find out, won’t we?” Felicity joked groggily.

You said nothing. Though the stars still twinkled above you, your exhausted body decided to alert you that not only did your cheek and leg hurt, but that you were close to shutting down.

Pretending that you weren’t extremely lethargic, you marched on behind the rest of the group diligently, watching your back as you all moved.

A few times, you heard cars drive around and took cover. Felicity’s wide eyes would widen each time, making her look like a blonde beetle. Konner, on the other hand, would narrow his eyes so thinly that it looked like they were squeezed shut. Both you and Frisk would not change in expression. They would sit there, waiting blankly, eyes cold and without fear. It was easy to mimic the tone, but you could feel stress and fear build up internally as each dull roar of an engine passed you by. Rubble of buildings was a decent cover, but it wasn’t exactly the greatest. If the smoke wouldn’t have given you away, you would’ve smoked all of your cigarettes in order to lessen the overwhelming thoughts.

It was around dusk when you all stopped for your second food break and fifth water break. Konner kept a diligent eye out with you as the two of you scanned the area. You would notice his gaze sweep back to you on occasion. Each time his eyes landed on you, you felt a little more aggravated. It was such a judgemental look, like he was trying to figure out what the fuck was wrong with you.

It was a welcome break when Felicity announced that all of you could continue forwards. However, as you began to trail after Frisk again, Konner grabbed your shoulder roughly. It hurt, but you didn’t display that to him. Instead he was given a cold, dour look.

“What’s your deal, huh?”

“You’re going to have to be more specific,” you said flatly, turning away and marching behind Felicity and the kid.

“Why’re ya so grumpy all the time?”

“I’m not. I don’t celebrate while in constant danger.”

“No, you’re  _ always  _ bitter. Even when we were back at the camp. I’ve never seen you smile, not even ‘round her.” He jerked his thumb in Felicity’s direction. “Why’s that?”

You changed the subject. “You’re no different.”

“Don’t have any friends. You have friends.”

“Friend.”

“Whateva’. Point still stands.”

You stayed quiet.

“Are ya going to answer me or what?”

“I don’t fake smiles.”

He was quiet again.

The night passed by slowly. You were planning to take a shift, but you decided against it after you practically passed out immediately after sitting down.

Felicity took over for you, running her fingers through your hair as you rested in her lap. It made you feel small, like a child.

This damaged your image somewhat, so you crossed your arms and furrowed your eyebrows a little in a miserable attempt to not look like a puny puppy.

Most instances, you wanted to be seen as a protector (even if you were an asshole of a protector). You wanted people to be able to rely on you for anything. The feeling of being protected, while not unwelcome, was merely odd. Your sister was not supposed to hold you, you were supposed to hold her--

Wait.

_ Felicity _ was not supposed to hold you. That’s what you meant.

You cringed at yourself.

 

You drifted off much quicker than usual, but the time you were asleep lasted eons. There were no dreams, but only blackness. All encompassing, all surrounding blackness. And you were in the middle of it. No body, no feeling, no hurt, no taste or touch, just awareness.

 

You woke up to your hair being ruffled. Groggily, you peered up at Felicity, whose watery eyes were looking down at you warmly. Her rosy lips broke into a grin. “We’re gonna start walking again,” she hummed.

It took you a moment, but you eventually registered her words and groaned as you shifted to a sitting position.

“Nnkay,” you responded drowsily, getting up. The sky was still dark, but it was no longer black. The sky was a dark blend of hues in the purple and pink category. The stars were dull on the canvas.

As you started trudging behind Frisk, Konner, and Felicity, gun at hand, you bitterly reflected on how long today was going to be, too.

The amount of hiding increased thoroughly, and you were starting to get angry. It couldn’t be later than ten o’clock, and there had been seven vehicles that passed, searching for you.

After the last one passed, while everyone else was taking a quick water break, you felt like you deserved a cigarette. The anxiety of likely impending doom was getting to your head, and you were not going to have a panic attack in front of “Health Expert” Ambassador Frisk. You puffed the smoke vehemently, trying to get all that you possibly could out of the small stick.

“You know we don’t allow those back at camp,” Frisk blurted as their eyes met yours.

You shot them a look of shock. Your mouth hung open slightly. Blinking in astonishment, you narrowed your eyes.

“Yeah. That’s right. They’re not good for you, or anyone around you. We don’t tolerate them.”

Felicity looked between the two of you nervously. “___,” she said softly, placing a hand on your shoulder.

Instead of starting to yell to release the fury that had bubbled inside you, you shot the Ambassador a livid glare and began puffing on the cigarette more harshly-- you had to get your apparent last few inhales in quickly before the right was stripped from you.

“Why not?” Konner asked. He looked offended, too, to your smug pleasure. It was nice to not be alone in your utter disdain.

“Because they’re BAD for you. And for people around you. And they make many monsters feel really sick. The smell is really repulsive to most of them, since their senses can be more sensitive. We can’t have people hacking up their souls.”

Angrily, you wondered how much of the monster population carried the trait “little bitch,” because if you could not stand the smell of smoke, that was exactly what you were. In your eyes, at least. If there was a health risk like asthma, you understood. But just the smell? No. It wasn’t like you usually even smoked that much, or around a hundred other people. And sure it was bad for you. But why the hell would you care about  _ that? _

You tapped the cigarette with your fingers, watching the ash fall. You were pulling it back to your lips again, when the sound of a motor invaded your ears.

Instantly, you threw your cigarette to the ground, stomped it out, and began listening intently for another sound where the first had come from. A car. Another one.

Everyone else had also stopped moving, and were all barely breathing. Voices came from the vehicle.

“If they’re moving at the pace they have been, they should be ‘round here somewhere. Found a campsite a bit back. Had been covered up.”

You gave Felicity an alert look, crouching down so that you wouldn’t be able to be spotted. Frisk looked confused and fearful, squatting low with squinted eyes.

Cautiously, you crept out to peer through the crumbling buildings to see how many soldiers you were going to be going against. A woman almost completely covered in heavy, camo clothes was walking around, facing away from you, with four people around her. Each trooper was human.

The one other woman stood out in the troop. She was wearing a loose vest with a black shirt underneath it. Her dark hair was tied up tightly in a bun. She was shorter, too. She had mellow, brown eyes, and an overall calm look about her. The dark brown hair and eyes complimented her tawny skin, which was glistening in the sun.

You shook away your thoughts, pulling back so they couldn’t see you. You held up five fingers to symbolize how many people that there were.

“We can take ‘em,” Konner mouthed.

“Should we?” Felicity mouthed back.

You all turned to Frisk, who slowly nodded. They grabbed Konner’s second pistol and held it with their good hand, getting ready.

You could feel your heart pounds throughout your entire body. You held your breath and reminded yourself that it would be okay if you died as long as it meant Felicity-- and the ambassador, you supposed-- were safe. It was okay. You left your mission back at Maven. You were meant to die then anyways. You being here now was nothing more than dumb luck. If Jo hadn’t gone down, you would have stayed back, and you’d have died. You were ready then.

You were ready now.

 

Footsteps drew closer, and you went to shoot your gun.

A figure stepped into the doorframe, and you raised your pistol, firing off a shot. You only missed because Frisk had redirected your gun at the last second. You looked at them in surprise, seeing a great beam come over their cheeks. “UNDYNE!” they cried out gratefully.

The woman who had been almost completely covered up was visible to you now. She had yellow, fishlike eyes, and aqua scales around them. She yanked down her scarf covering her mouth, and showed a fanged, toothy grin. The two hugged. “Good to see ya, kid.”


	3. Stares

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> late update but eh long chapter

The ride back was an uncomfortable one. The oddly dressed lady introduced herself as a nurse. “Hey, my name’s Eden,” she said as she reached for Frisk’s hand. “It’s an honor to meet you, Ambassador. Wish it was on better terms, though. Any wounds besides the hand?”

“No,” Frisk said. “It’s good to see you too, by the way. Even though we don’t know each other yet.”

She chuckled. “That’s good to know. Give me your hand, please.”

Frisk followed her request and set their hand in Eden’s.

He face grew solemn. “This doesn’t look great, now does it? These bandages been changed recently?”

“Right before we escaped. Few days ago.”

Eden’s brows furrowed. “Mmm. You’re gonna need to cut some more of this off. It’s pretty badly infected and wasn’t... amputated right...Ooh boy. When we get back to camp, we’re going to treat this right away. So here’s the scoop: either we’re gonna cut them off at this bottom joint, or cut them off at the knuckle. I hope we can get it at the joint, but if the infection is already there, we’re gonna have to get rid of them entirely.”

“Why not just cut them off to be safe?”

“That adds more potential hazards. So we’ll see. For now, I’m gonna treat this as best I can.”

The Ambassador let out a tiny grunt as Eden did her work.

Eden rewrapped Frisk’s hand with fresh gauze. They thanked her.

“It’s no problem, Ambassador. I’m just here in case there was a big problem. Thankfully, you seem unscathed.” She nodded at Felicity. When she met Konner, she asked, “That your blood?”

“No,” he answered. “I don’t think so.”

He had a large, purple bruise on his chest, but that was all. His vest had done well to protect him from the bullets.

When Eden was done checking him, she began to speak to Frisk again. “These fingers aren’t great, but amputating them in a moving vehicle is not something I’m comfortable with. Plus, since we’re going to be back soon, we might as well wait. The assistance at camp is better.” She turned to you. “You’ve got a little injury there, too, I see. Can I just check your cheek? I need to make sure nothing’s infected.” You obliged, leaning in so she could examine your wound. She peeled off the bandaid. “Has this been hurting?”

“Not much,” you answered blandly. You didn’t mention your leg because you were pretty sure why it was hurting already. The pain was lessening anyways.

Felicity peered over Eden’s shoulder. “What happened there?” she asked, pointing to Eden’s neck. There was some gauze on the left side of her neck, towards the bottom.

“I got clipped by a gun a little while back.”

“You were attacked at camp?” Frisk piped up, looking befuddled and a little alarmed.

Eden snorted. “I work out in the field, too. I’m not a grade-A nurse, or a grade-A trooper, but I balance them both out by helping people out on the field. Don’t worry about it though, my friend Laurel got me all stitched up, and I’m ready to go again.” She grinned at Felicity, then turned back to you. “Anyways… this looks okay overall. And no, before you ask, you won’t need stitches; it’s already stopped bleeding. I’m still gonna hand you over to Laurel, though. Second opinions are always good. Plus, uh, this isn’t the best place to treat anything.”

“Who’re you gonna hand the Ambassador over to?” Konner asked.

“A monster and a human. Monsters who can use healing magic are the best with infections, but amputations are best done by a human. I think it scares the hell out of monsters to separate… well, y’know.” Eden looked back at you, scanning your eyes. “You aren’t much of a talker, are you?” she asked, staring.

You returned the stare, unblinking. “I guess not.”

Felicity gave you a very mother-like glare, to which you scoffed. The blonde fairy turned to Eden, apologetic. “She thinks she’s scary,” she explained. You rolled your eyes.

“I don’t like talking,” you said with a grimace. Felicity wrinkled her nose.

Eden turned back to you, hands up in surrender, silencing Felicity from retorting. “That’s not  _ so  _ bad. All these dudes think they’re scary, too.” She smirked. “The scariest one’s probably Booger.”

The men who had been silent the entire ride began chuckling (excluding the one on the far right). “You tell people you’re the Boogeyman when you’re hammered ONE TIME and you’re called Booger the rest of your life!” He was very thin and pale, his yellowed, hazel eyes looking around scathingly.

You looked on, blankly. The conversation didn’t interest you; you no longer found banter with strangers funny or engaging.

“That’s a real unfortunate event, buddy. Guess you shouldn’t go around telling people you’re the Boogerman anymore,” you heard Undyne pipe up from the driver’s seat.

She hadn’t been talking a whole bunch, but she claimed it was due to the fact she was staying concentrated and avoiding all potential threats.

The man moped and whined more.

 

That was the first day.

 

There was one stop for bathroom breaks, which was fine by you, but you could tell that one of the soldiers was staring to get antsy later on in the drive. Much to his displeasure in particular, you all were told it was to be another few hours until you actually reached the camp. You were looking forward to it for a different reason than he was. Your legs were cramping, and the one leg was starting to make you seriously consider amputating it. As the car bumped and kept going towards the camp, the silence grew. Felicity was one of those people that didn’t appreciate silences, so she was trying to engage people, but only accomplished some small talk as Eden made sure that she and Konner were all good.

You were not like Felicity. You liked the quiet.

Leaning back, you shut your eyes, relaxing.

And then you woke up, extremely tense. The world had come to an abrupt start.

You slowly became aware that your rude awakening was due entirely to the pixy.

Felicity looked at you excitedly. “We’re here!” she said, shaking your arm roughly. You grumbled. “___! C’mon!”

“‘M coming,” you snapped, lifting yourself up. “Sorry,” you added quickly, feeling slight guilt over your tone.

“That’s okay!” She was pulling your arm, grinning ear-to-ear.

All the other Monster soldiers and the Ambassador had left the car. Konner was standing near the door. As the two of you left, he walked with you.

“Did they make ya wait?” Felicity asked him.

Quietly, Konner spoke, “I just wanted to go with you guys. I’m gonna show you where the medics are real quick. The woman already introduced herself to me and showed me where it was.”

The two of you followed (though you followed with quite a bit more… grumpily, shall we say), and Konner pointed you over to a tent containing woman with short, blonde hair. It was darker than Felicity’s hair; gleaming a glorious gold. It seemed like it was being kept out of her face with a red scarf.

She was facing away from you, tending to a monster.

“There, just don’t use some magic for a while-- except when healing-- and stay off that leg, and I think you’ll make a full recovery.”

“Laurel!”

The woman turned around, smiling. She looked very friendly, and was smiling widely. You noticed she was very clean, unlike some of the other soldiers you’d seen (‘Booger’ in particular). The woman took the scarf out of her hair, and some bangs came down. She smiled wider, kindly. She looked at you. “Heya. I’m Laurel, who’re you? Wait, no, don't tell me. You’re the one that saved the Ambassador, right?”

“I helped,” you told her mildly grudgingly, walking over as the monster limped past you.

Her light blue eyes sparkled. “You know, that was so brave of you. Everyone was kind of a wreck when they were in captivity. Scared, all that.”

“Monsters seem to be a lot more put-together than humans in general. That must’ve been worrying,” Felicity said, kindly taking up the plate so you wouldn’t have to answer.

“Well, my boyfriend certainly isn’t. He’s a big goofball, but I love him anyways.” She furrowed her brows, laughing a little. “Well, I take that back. He’s  _ very _ serious about his work. He’s actually one of the people currently taking care of Frisk.”

“That’s cool!” Maycombe smiled at Laurel. “He sounds like a neat guy.”

A soft smile grew on Laurel’s face as she stole a glance at Felicity. “Did you guys see him when Frisk stepped out of the car? I think Undyne almost killed him because of how ecstatic he was.”

Again, Felicity spoke up. “Yes, I did, I think. Is he the tall one?”

“Yeah, yeah. He's a giant. Did you see him?” Laurel looked at you.

“No.” Short and simple. You were uncomfortable.

“She was asleep,” Felicity said, looking over at you, mildly irritated. You felt guilty for disappointing her with your curt answer, but not too much.

“I’m surprised you stayed that way,” Laurel commented, still smiling softly. She didn’t really seem to mind that you weren’t talking much. Her white t-shirt had some blood and dust stains on it that you hadn’t noticed before. Laurel reached for your face and peeled off the bandage. The smile faded. “Hmm. Gunshot?”

“Yes.”

“It clipped her while we were getting the Ambassador,” Felicity elaborated.

“Uh… huh. Well, have you disinfected it at all?”

“No.”

“That wasn’t very smart. It’s better to clean these wounds as soon as you get them. It limits complications in the future.”

Felicity grabbed your shoulder roughly, looking panicked. “Is Harris okay? She’s not seriously messed up now because we didn’t do that?” Her nails began to dig into your shoulder.

“Calm down,” you said quietly. “I’ll be fine.”

Laurel chuckled, removing Felicity’s hands. “Oh, it’s not  _ too  _ bad. It’s only a little infected. Nothing some of our help can’t fix, though. Do you want me to help you or a monster?”

“I don’t care.”

Laurel smiled. “Well, you’ll just have to settle for me then. I’ll get Eden over here, too.” She turned away from you. “EDEN!” she bellowed, one thousand decibels louder than before. Felicity latched onto Konner’s arm, clearly startled.

You saw the dark-haired woman jog over. “What’s up, L?”

“She’s infected here on the cheek. Mind lending a hand real quick?”

“Infected? What?”

“Nothing terrible. Look here, see the red? I bet it’s tender, huh?”

You shrugged.

Eden peered at you, drawing her face uncomfortably close to yours. “Oh yeah. Damn. The lighting in the car is the worst, I blame that.”

“You’re the worst, I blame  _ that _ ,” Laurel quipped.

Eden laughed, rolling her eyes.

Laurel grabbed a towel. She dabbed some disinfectant onto it, then turned to you again. “This may sting some.”

“I’ll be fine,” you replied.

“She’s a tough chick,” Eden said with a wink, handing a petite bottle to Laurel. There was a label on it, but you couldn’t make out what it said.

Laurel snorted. “Oh yeah? Like Maxwell?”

“Booger doesn’t have shit on her from what I’ve heard.”

Laurel raised an eyebrow, but kept her eyes on your wound, pressing the disinfectant against your cheek. ‘Sting some’ appeared to be a horrendous lie. It burned like an inferno. You held a straight face, inwardly cursing everything you’d ever known.  _ Why the fuck. What the fuck. Fuck this. Jesus  _ fucking _ christ. _

Laurel took the bottle from Eden, dabbed one drop of a green liquid onto the cloth with the disinfectant, and added it to your cheek.

Immediately, the pain disappeared, and a warm, healing sensation spread throughout your cheek. She added some more disinfectant onto the wound (back to slight burning, okay, great), and then Laurel slapped a bandage back on your cheek.

“That’s just so it won’t get infected again. You’ll be able to take it off in a few days. You’re lucky that it was so easy to take care of.” Laurel seemed like she was prepared to address the conversation beforehand again. “Now. What stories have you heard?”

Eden laughed. “Felicity here tells me that she didn’t even notice when she got shot. And that she fell off the roof of one of the Humans’ bases, and didn’t even break a bone. Or sprain anything.”

“That true?” Laurel was now focused on Eden, handing back medical supplies. Eden packed them up, placing the little green bottle in a section labeled “MAGIC.”

Well, that explained the quick recovery.

“No. I noticed. And it wasn’t a very high roof.”

Felicity punched your arm. “How high do you think isn’t very? Because that had to have been a thirty foot building.”

You shook your head. “Don’t lie,” you mumbled.

She was referring to a time you’d been pushed accidentally and went flying off the roof. It wasn’t short, for sure, but you would’ve only broken an arm, most likely, had you not been able to shorten your fall by grabbing onto a windowsill.

The other two didn’t care. Eden’s eyes widened, and she looked like she was going to say something, but instead she just whistled. “Wow.”

Before Felicity could respond and spread more over-exaggerations (an action she was notorious for), Laurel startled her by springing away from her work. The medic jogged over to a tall monster wearing fashionable camouflage. He turned around and picked her up, hugging her tightly. “HELLO, LAUREL,” the tall skeleton laughed.

Konner was quietly snickering behind you, and you couldn’t blame him. Laurel wasn’t the tallest, but the monster (her boyfriend, you found it safe to assume) was  _ very  _ tall. You guessed he was 6’5”. You amused yourself slightly by thinking,  _ Felicity would say he’s 10’8”. _

He nuzzled his skull into her cheek affectionately, and in return, she kissed him on the cheek and was set back down. “How’d it go?” she asked, walking back to you and another woman who had just come in, holding a very bloated and red arm.

“VERY WELL. I THINK THEY’RE GOING TO BE A-OKAY! I CAME OVER HERE JUST TO UPDATE YOU, SO I’M GOING TO GO BACK JUST TO MAKE SURE THE MAGIC WAS EFFECTIVE. I’LL SEE YOU LATER, LAUREL.”

“Okay, seeya baby. Thanks for letting me know.”

The tall skeleton walked away.

“Okay, that’s good.” Laurel walked back, washing her hands at a small sink. She looked up, and her face fell. “Oh, no, Ari…” The other girl who had just entered had light brown hair, cut very short. She had greenish-blue eyes, an eyebrow piercing, and small gauges.

“I’m having some issues,” Ari told Laurel, gesturing to her arm. “Do you think it’s gonna need powerful magic treatment?”

Laurel grimaced, wiping her hands on a towel. “Yes, this has been ongoing for too long… I’m sure Papyrus can get ya, he’s not flooded right now.”

“Isn’t he with the Ambassador right now? I heard the people who rescued them were found.” 

Laurel pointed back to you, Konner, and Felicity, and Ari’s eyebrows quirked up. “Paps is just checking up on them right now. You’ll probably be fine going on over there.”

Ari nodded, then scanned the three of you, and shrugged. “Hey, was it hard?” she asked you three.

“We’re most likely the only ones that survived, so I’d say decently difficult,” Konner said.

Ari tilted her head in a half nod, still holding her arm. “Fair. What’re your names?”

“Konner Preston.”

“I’m Felicity Maycombe, and that’s ____ Harris.”

Ari looked back to you. “What? She can’t introduce herself or something?”

You frowned slightly, irked. “She did it before I had a chance.”

Ari laughed then groaned, gripping her arm. “Whatever. Well, I’m gonna head off to Papyrus before my whole fucking arm falls off. I’ll see if Rey’s up to help me if Pap is still busy.”

“Okay. Tell me if it stops.”

“Yeah, I will.”

She left. You watched her carry her arm as she ambled out of the tent, calling for Papyrus. (“Skeleman! Yo, skeledude! Skeletor! OI! PAPYRUS!”)

Laurel turned to you. “You can go, by the way. We’re gonna move camp tomorrow, but food’s over there.” She gestured towards the left. “You walk far enough and you’ll find it. Actually-- Eden, can you show them where it is?”

“I’ve gotcha,” Eden said, walking off where Laurel had been pointing.

Felicity immediately headed off behind Eden, and you followed her lead. Konner didn’t move until you turned around, raising an eyebrow.

“I’m coming. Got some questions first.”

You nodded, then flipped back over to follow Felicity. She was talking up a storm with Eden, asking if she could help out with food. “We’re all good right now. Every station’s already being manned. Don’t worry.”

“Who’s serving?”

“Some of the generals and lead medics, a few sergeants and corporals. It’s celebration for the Ambassador’s arrival. You realize that you three are probably going to be idolized?”

“I kinda assumed. But I didn’t know for sure.” Felicity laughed a little.

“Oh, yeah,” Konner said. He looked a little uncomfortable.

You wrinkled your nose. You didn’t want to be idolized and talk to more people than you had to. You hated attention vehemently and hated people being snoopy even more.

Felicity noticed your bitter facial expression and punched your arm really fucking hard. It didn’t hurt much. Felicity wasn’t exactly buff. “It’s  _ fine, _ don’t get all huffy,” she chided.

“You did most of the work,” you mumbled.

“It was not  _ just _ me, drama queen. You helped! You  _ and  _ Konner helped! It wouldn’t have worked without you two!”

Konner looked away. “Yeah, she’s right.”

“___, c’mon, live a little!”

You pursed your lips and crossed your arms.

“Alright, it’s right over there,” Eden interjected, clearly bored by the new conversation. She pointed to a woman with long, caramel hair, a (blue?) leather jacket, and plastic gloves. She was giving out food to a line of men and women (both monster and human). “I suggest going to Elaina over there. She’s the nicest corporal. I would suggest the queen, but her line is super long…”

“Are you gonna get food?”

“Yeah, but I’m gonna go over to Undyne. Need to give an update on ____’s status. If I don’t, she’ll get all pissy.”

“Should she come with you?” Felicity asked, looking back at you worriedly.

Your cheek felt heavy from the cloth and how close it was to your eye. You ignored it, glancing to Eden. “Nah, you guys can stay here.” That was fine by you, and you took a spot in line. “I’m sure if you asked, Corporal Jean’ll give you some extra food for what you’ve done for the Ambassador.”

“Okay. Thanks!”

“Seeya. Seeya, ___.”

You gave a small wave, taking your place in line. Felicity stood beside you, jabbering on excitedly about extra food, when a man behind you spoke.

“Kid? What the hell are  _ you _ doing here?”

You turned around to the man, as did Felicity. It was a monster with a large overbite and a scraggly beard, staring down at Felicity.

She sighed. Someone as short as Felicity (4’9”) was commonly mistaken for a child. It didn’t help that she was very bouncy and had a tendency to act younger. However, her face was definitely that of a woman; the youngest she could be mistaken for when seeing her in the front would be nineteen.

That was why Felicity didn’t need to say anything for the monster to realize his mistake. He didn’t seem to care too much though; his eyes just widened. You felt like he was a guy you could relate to.

While you wanted to snort at his comment, you knew that it infuriated Felicity whenever someone called her a kid. You could see by the way her eyes were flickering that she was trying to decide whether he was worth a comeback or not.

She deemed it unworthy of her time and turned around.

“I’m so short,” she grumbled.

“Yeah,” you said back.

She punched you in the side, snorting. “At least I’m not mean!”

You nodded, amused. “Only when someone brings up how short you are.” You liked to talk to and tease Felicity. Each conversation made you feel maybe a little less like a bitch. Or a little more, just in a friendly way.

“I can’t help it! I didn’t go out one day and choose the shrimpy gene.” Felicity grinned at you a little, letting the further mockery pass by.

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head. Felicity grabbed your arm and clung onto it, still smiling ear to ear. “This is why everyone thinks you’re a kid.”

“Then I’ll kick them in the dick,” she said flatly.

“It’s everyone. Women, men, aliens, grass…”

“I’ll kick them in the metaphorical dick,” she settled.

“Bold uptaking.”

“I’ll win.”

“Sure,” you said sarcastically, moving forwards in the line.

Felicity openly complained about her height some more, before yabbering on about something else. You ended up dozing off a bit as she was speaking, thinking about your sister.

You wanted to see her again so badly. Every moment that passed, you missed her. Her stupid, dorky smile with the big gap between her otherwise straight teeth. Her freckles. Her eyes. You missed it all, eager for the day you two would be reunited.

“Harris! Are you listening to me?”

“Oh. Something about your best friend. Cameron.”

“ _ Camille _ . She was really tall. She used to carry me on her shoulders at recess and we’d attack everyone. It was a lot of fun when we were in elementary school.”

“Sounds like it,” you responded.

“Do you wanna talk right now?”

“No.”

Felicity deeply sighed. “ _ Fine, _ I’ll stop talking for a while.”

You looked on, moving forwards in line. Time passed quickly whenever you were quiet, which you liked. The faster time moved, the faster you’d be done.

Felicity had started talking to the man in front of her, and the two were laughing quite a bit. The monster had white, slightly sparkly fur and two antlers. His claws were dull and short. The translucent quality to them was interesting.

He had big, happy eyes that were a sparkling blue.

You observed him, then went back to staring off into space.

“This is Harris,” Felicity said. “____ Harris.”

You turned your head. The monster smiled at you. “Harris. Nice to meet you. I’m Rey.” He held out his hand.

You shook it. “You too,” you said flatly, looking away again.

“She’s cranky right now. Don’t worry. It’s nothing against you,” you heard Felicity reassure him.

He laughed. “No worries, we all have those days. So, are you from one of the closer camps that came to see the Ambassador? They were just rescued. They’re going to make a toast tonight.”

Felicity smiled nervously, and you felt yourself prepare for the attention you were about to receive. Your lips thinned as Felicity said, “We came with the Ambassador.”

Rey’s eyes lightened. “Wait. You mean-- You’re the spies? Who saved the Ambassador?”

Eyes turned to you, and you crossed your arms tightly, grinding your teeth together. “I wouldn’t say  _ spy, _ ” she said timidly.

“Oh my god, oh my god,” Rey effused. “What was it like? Was it hard being there? How hard was it to go through with? Who were you in the plan? Did anyone else do it with you? Did  _ she _ do it with you?”

Felicity opened and shut her mouth numerous times, trying to answer everything, but decided to only answer the last question. “Yes, Harris did, and so did another man. Konner Preston.”

Everyone was grouping around you, bombarding you with questions and excitement. You awkwardly tried to shuffle out of line, but Felicity held firmly onto your jacket.

“ _ HEY!” _ boomed a woman’s voice.  _ “IF YOU DON’T GO RIGHT BACK WHERE YOU ALL JUST WERE, I’M NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR YOU GETTING STUCK AT THE BACK OF THE LINE!” _ The voice didn’t match her words well. The voice was lighthearted and reminded you of honey; lots of bounce to it, but the words were spoken harshly and threateningly.

The men and women around you took her words to heart and instantly shuffled back to their spots, leering at you and your friend.

You felt extremely uncomfortable and irritated. You sent Felicity an anguished and mildly bitter glance, and she rolled her eyes.

“Better get used to the attention, Harris. We’re branded.”

“NEXT!”

You stepped forward in the line, then stopped. “I hate attention.”

“Like I said, get used to it.”

“No.”

“Don’t be so stubborn, Harris. Maybe it’ll end up being a good thing!”

“Unlikely.”

The woman’s voice rang out again. “NEXT!”

Felicity continued to explain to you that you didn’t really have a choice in the matter, while the man who’d earlier mistaken Maycombe for a child pestered her with endless questions. The line moved at a snail’s pace, and you found yourself growing more and more uncomfortable by the growing stares.

Rey kept asking questions, and now the monster behind you had joined suit. You allowed Felicity to answer everything since she was the one who let the cat out of the bag. The men both also kept asking you questions, but you had finally decided to completely shut down and ignore them. This clearly aggravated both of them  _ and _ Maycombe, but you didn’t care. You were uncomfortable and wanted to go back to being ignored by everyone.

“NEXT!” the woman said again, beckoning Rey forwards. He got some food, excitedly whispered and pointed back to you guys, and then smiled widely.

“I know!” she said, laughing. “Everyone and their mother’s told me what they look like. Calm down.” She looked back up as Rey left (he was still staring). “Why don’t both of you come up here?”

Felicity practically dragged you over. “I’m Felicity Maycombe. This is ____ Harris. I don’t know where Konner is, but he’s the last one of us, um, traitors, I guess?”

“More like saviors. Frisk’s return is a huge help. They do a lot more than just help out with battle plans and such, y’know.” She smiled. “Where are my manners? My name’s Jean. Corporal Elaina Jean. Though some people call me ‘Jean Queen’ because of Toriel.”

“Are you close?”

“Practically her daughter,” Elaina chuckled. “Though, most people are. Whatever. I’m one of the few corporals in close combat that’s human. I specialize in knives and all that fun stuff.”

Felicity punched you in the arm, and said, “Hey, that’s what Harris did back in Maven. Knife stuff. Close combat.”

“Oh? That so? Well maybe I’ll be seeing more of you, Harris.” Her eyes fell to your pocket, and you frowned, following them.

She was looking at your cigarettes.

You shoved them further in your pocket, and she quirked a brow. “Actually, how about you come and talk to me after dinner, Harris? I’ll be easy to find. If you don’t come to me,  _ I’ll _ come get you.”

 

_ Fuck. I’ve been here for less than a day and I’m already getting myself into trouble. Fuck this. If no one paid attention to me, this wouldn’t have happened. _

 

“Okay,” you said plainly, significantly more irritated with your situation.

“I haven’t heard anything from you yet. Anything you have to add?”

“No.”

Corporal Jean smirked. “You’re the quiet kind, huh?” She looked at Felicity, then back to you. “You two make one helluva pair.”

And then she handed you two both platters of food, and called, “NEXT!

You took yours as Felicity took hers, and looked around for a table to sit at. You felt like you were back in middle school.

People began to point and stare. You tried to keep Felicity in front of you so people wouldn’t look at you as much, but you were much taller than her, so it was really all for naught.

Felicity finally spotted an open table that didn’t have people ogling. You were thankful that she chose as such. You knew she only did it because you were with her.

She sat down next to a tall, buff man who was sitting opposite a laughing woman with choppy, short brown hair. You quietly sat next to Felicity.

“Um, hello? New faces?” the man said. “Wow, you’re fucking smal--”

The woman kicked the man. “Dale! Jesus!” She shook her head. “He’s an idiot. Don’t listen to him.”

“Hey!” Dale responded bitterly. “I’m not an idiot.”

The woman rolled her eyes. “Sure, okay. Did you think to introduce yourself?”

Dale turned to you two, and you immediately noticed that he had a very baby-like face. It was like seeing Felicity’s opposite. “I’m Dale Shaw. And I’m  _ so polite _ I’ll even introduce Elli Barnes.” He pointed the woman, who smiled and waved.

“Eleanor, actually, but I guess Elli’s fine.”

“I’m Felicity Maycombe,” your friend said. You weren’t paying much attention, so you didn’t realize she hadn’t introduced you again. She then elbowed you harshly in the ribs.

“___ Harris,” you said.

“Jeez, I’m not going to introduce you every single time we meet someone new,” she huffed.

“I didn’t ask you to.”

“Were you going to do it yourself?”

“Only if someone asked.”

“___, that’s rude!”

“Okay.”

“No! Not ‘okay!’”

Dale decided it was his time to interject. “ _ See? _ I’m not the only one who doesn’t do introductions.” He blew a raspberry at Elli.

“I’m not marrying  _ her. _ I don’t need to worry about her.” 

“Whatever,” Dale sighed.

Felicity looked astonished. You were too, but you didn’t say anything. “There sure are a lot of couples here. Like, together.”

Elli smiled. “Yeah, it’s a common thing around here. Monsters’ magic comes from their souls, and those grow stronger with love and all that mushy stuff. So it’s kinda like weight lifting.”

Felicity was intrigued. “What about when they break up? Or if one of them gets hurt?”

Dale leaned over his food. “They have to be chill about it. And if someone gets hurt or dies, it’s horrible. But it can sometimes lead to stronger powers. Relationships aren’t really pushed for people who go in the field. It’s mainly encouraged for medics.”

“So you two are medics?”

“Nah, we aren’t. We got engaged before the war and just got lucky being close together. We’re a rare case.”

“It wasn’t luck. I asked the queen personally if we could be closer together as long as I worked hard enough to get into the same division as you,” Dale corrected.

“And we’re  _ lucky _ she said ‘yes,’” Elli reminded.

“Okay, I see how it is.  _ Don’t _ defend your fiancé’s honor, or anything like that. It’s cool. My feelings aren’t damaged beyond repair.”

“Shut up, drama mama.”

“Hi,” Konner said, sitting down. You nearly jumped at his sudden appearance, but Felicity startled much more than you did, so you doubted anyone noticed. “Who are we sitting with?”

“Elli Barnes. Dale Shaw.” Barnes jabbed her fork at herself and then at Shaw. She raised her eyebrows. “Are you three friends?”

Konner awkwardly shook his head. “Not really. We just came here together.” He shrugged. “I don’t know anyone else.”

Elli knitted her eyebrows together. “Where  _ did _ you guys come from anyways? I haven’t seen garb like that among our troops--”

“Attention, soldiers!”

Elli shut her mouth and turned to the voice. You recognized Undyne, who was standing at a grand table with the king and queen of monsters. You could see Frisk in the lap of Toriel Dreemurr. They seemed bitter, but not rowdy.

“As I am sure you have heard, as word travels fast around here, the Ambassador has been rescued!” General Undyne bellowed, gesturing to the child behind her.

“ _ What?!” _ Dale whisper-shouted to his fiance. He wasn’t the only one. It seemed that though many people were aware, at least one fifth of the soldiers around you were not, and there was a sudden joyous whooping and cheering. You sat stiffly and awkwardly, clapping four times and then resting with your arms tightly held against your sides again.

“SILENCE! Hold on! Yes, it is a great victory for us! However, there is more to say. Frisk did not escape on their own. A mass attack was carried out against a large Human military base full of elite soldiers by spies and allies we had within their ranks. A great many lives were lost. Today, through spies in other areas of the Human fleet, we learned that none of these allies survived besides the few who came with the Ambassador. Those who were still alive at the Maven base after the rescue of the Ambassador were found and shot by Human troops. The brave three who lived, the reason we currently have the Ambassador with us right now, are with us currently. We owe them a great debt. If they will please stand now so we can congratulate them for their valor and dignity!”

Felicity shyly stood, as did Konner, and extremely reluctantly, you rose, crossing your arms. This was not what you wanted in the slightest.

“Name yourselves, soldiers!”

“I am Felicity Maycombe, ma’am!”

“____ Harris, ma’am,” you said hoarsely.

“Konner Preston, General Undyne.”

Applause sounded around you. A few men cheered. You just wanted to sit down and escape it all.

And so you did as Undyne continued her speech, Konner following your lead. Felicity followed your image. You quickly lost interest in what she was talking about, poking around your food awkwardly as people occasionally cheered. Frisk, too, stood and trailed off into a lengthy speech, but you didn't listen.

You could feel the stares seeping through your skin by everyone, including the people you were sitting with. Felicity was answering questions, but you weren’t listening to them. Felicity poked you roughly in the side a few times when you had been directly addressed, but you didn’t talk at all other than those moments.

Felicity yanked you up when she finished eating to discuss where you’d be sleeping before everyone hauled off the next morning. Konner came along too.

“Where you three off to?” a voice rang. Laurel smiled, walking over.

“Looking for someone who can tell us where we’re supposed to be sleeping,” Felicity replied. “Do you know who we should go to?”

Laurel put her hands on her hips. You noticed her boyfriend walking up to her. “Hm. Well, I’d think the queen might be a good person to go to. It’ll be a little weird now anyways, considering the fact we’re leaving soon.”

“HELLO, DEAREST.”

“Hello, Papy,” Laurel said, turning to face her boyfriend. “What are you doing here? I thought you were going off to find your brother.”

“I WAS, BUT JEAN WAS TRYING TO FIND ____ HARRIS. THEY NEED TO TALK OR SOMETHING. I HOPE IT'S NOT TOO MUCH TROUBLE IF I ASK YOU TO COME WITH ME, ____.”

You grudgingly nodded.

Felicity swatted your arm. “Hey, I’ll go find out what’s up, alright?” She grabbed Konner’s coat. “C’mon. Laurel, you know where Queen Toriel hangs out?”

“I’ll take you to her,” Laurel replied, leading the others away.

Papyrus likewise began walking away and you followed him.

“DO YOU KNOW WHY CORPORAL JEAN WANTS TO SPEAK WITH YOU?”

You shook your head.

“HM. WELL, IT SEEMED IMPORTANT.”

You shrugged.

“YOU ARE VERY HARD TO MAINTAIN A CONVERSATION WITH,” Papyrus stated a tad sourly. “DO YOU EVER TALK?”

“Sometimes.”

Papyrus huffed. “I SEE.”

The two of you walked for a few more minutes, you uncomfortably avoiding the stares of soldiers. He took a turn into a dilapidated building, and as you walked in, you saw Elaina again.

She smiled at you. “Thanks, Papyrus. I’ll take her from here.”

“NO PROBLEM, ELAINA,” he chirped, then turned and walked away.

She put her hands on her hips. “I thought I told you to find me?”

“I forgot,” you said.

She sighed. “Well, whatever. I had a question for you. You’re a smoker, right?”

There it was. No point in hiding it. “Yeah. Ambassador Frisk already told me about the prohibition.”

“Did they?” She closed her eyes and stretched. “I’m a smoker, too. I wanted to tell you that I know a guy who can get you your cigarettes and whatever. He doesn’t take money or anything, either. What he charges varies. Mainly, he wants food.” She winked at you as you looked on, surprised. “Our secret, though, right Harris?”

You nodded and she slapped you on the back.

“Awesome. Let’s introduce you two.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for being so inconsistent yall


	4. The Skeleton

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so sorry this is late yall been a tad stressed but thats no excuse! definitely will try to be better at uploading!

You had been walking with her for a long time.

“He’s been hanging out by the outskirts. At our normal camp, he hangs out there too. He patrols and he smokes. It’s nice. He’s really good at keeping it secret. He’s pretty much never been caught.”

“That’s good.”

Elaina laughed. “Sure is. By the way, didn’t your pal say you did a lot of close combat? You were part of that special division up in Maven, yeah?”

“I’m good with knives,” you said offhandedly.

“Where’d you fight?”

“I didn’t.” You looked over at her, seeing her querying look, and continued. “I was part of a unit that went into the streets and fought off violent gangs there. Small militias, more or less.”

Elaina raised her eyebrows. “Oh. _Never_ were part of the major battles?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Wasn’t assigned to them, I guess,” you said.

Elaina chuckled softly. “Fair enough. Why’d you join the war? Did you start out as a spy or were you one of the ones that converted?”

You were quiet, unsure of what to say. “I was picked up and didn’t protest,” you carefully replied.

“‘Picked up?’ What’s that mean?”

“I was homeless. They recruited me.”

Elaina seemed a little uncomfortable, or maybe embarrassed. “Ah. Gotcha. I take it you were closer to the city, then. In the days before.”

You nodded stiffly, shoving your hands into your pockets. In one hand, you played with your lighter. In the other, you gently brushed your thumb over a photo that you’d taken from home.

Elaina nodded and clicked her tongue awkwardly. “Ah! There he is. See ‘im?”

You looked in the direction she was pointing. You could see a man in the distance with a little cloud of smoke around him. You nodded again.

“His name’s Sans. He’s kind of an asshole, but… whatever, y’know? He’s funny. And he has what we want, without much of a price, so. Eh.” She cupped her mouth and shouted, “YO! BONES!”

The figure turned and you squinted, trying to make this ‘Sans’ character out. And then there was a smiling skeleton right in front of you as if he had materialized out of nowhere. You shouted in surprise and instinctively raised your fist. Your knuckles were a bright white from how tightly you were clenching your fist.

The skeleton looked at you wide-eyed, taking a quick drag from his cigarette. “yikes. jumpy, huh?” He turned to Elaina. “jean queen. is this who i think it is?”

“She’s probably who you think she is, but we’re not here for that. She smokes,” Corporal Jean stated, slapping you on the back. You lowered your fist and looked at the man distastefully. You stuffed your hands into your pockets and pursed your lips.

The skeleton’s grin widened. He looked fascinated by your mere existence,making you incredibly uncomfortable. This was exactly what you’d wanted to avoid in the first place, after all. He said, “yeah. ____ harris. one of the ambassador’s saviors. a hero.”

He didn’t even bother to comment on why you were there. Only who you were and what brief deed you did made you relevant to him. And you were now something to these people that you suspected Felicity might have been when she rescued Ambassador Frisk; a new toy to dissect and a new chess piece to use as propaganda. Not a person but a _hero._

And you were reminded that had Joseph not met his end all too quickly, you would not be standing where you were, and you would not have to worry about being a figure, and you would not have to be called a hero when you were selfish and cared for neither side of the war, and you would not have to be reminded that you failed your original purpose for joining this pathetic and worthless war in the first place.

It made you uncomfortable and it made you angry. You were not a hero. You were not a chess piece. All you amounted to be was a failure. You rubbed your thumb over the picture again and ignored his pointed gaze, trying your best to evade the topic of yourself.

It seemed to work alright, as the next thing he said was, “i’m sans.” He offered you his hand in a handshake, taking it out of one of his camo pockets.

You looked at his hand, staring at something on it. There was what looked like an vermilion bag on his palm, held onto it via a black strap. You frowned and looked back at him.

Sans gestured towards you. “yo, you don’t know how to greet people or somethin’? you can shake hands, right dude?”

Frowning, you grunted. You pointed to the contraption.

He groaned, slumping. “buzzkill.”

Elaina laughed loudly and nodded approvingly at you. “Haven’t seen that before. She’s too smart for your pranks, Bones.”

“guess so,” Sans said, taking off the thing. “woulda been super funny. always is. when it works, i mean.” He poked it and a loud fart noise came out. You wrinkled your nose. “whoopie cushion in the hand trick.” He offered his hand to you again and you reluctantly shook it. “did queenie explain my schtick to ya when it comes to smokin’?”

“Kinda,” Elaina replied for you, which you were grateful for. “Told her what you charge varies depending on the person.”

“makes me sound sorta _slutty,_ doesn’t it?”

“Who cares, dude? Just tell her what the price is for a smoke.”

“do you _actually_ smoke?” Sans asked you.

Though you found the question odd, you nodded. You took out your half-empty pack as showed him as proof before putting it back into your pockets.

Sans looked at you strangely. “do you even talk? can you talk?”

“Yes,” you said back.

He feigned shock. “wow. an actual _entire_ word.”

Elaina scoffed and shoved him a little. “Don’t be a dick. Tell her what the price is,” she repeated.

He brushed her off. “i’m thinking. are you always this quiet?”

You shrugged.

Elaina spoke up for you again. “She’s not a chatty Cathy.”

Sans nodded. “what’s your opinion on puns?”

Elaina groaned. “Sans! You’re being an ass. We don’t have all day.”

He ignored her. “harris?”

“I’m indifferent.”

“what’s your story?”

“You already know it,” Elaina said sourly.

“i didn’t ask you.”

“It’s the same story you already know,” you said.

“sure, but i meant before that happened?”

You closed your mouth tightly. You disliked how prying he was.

“okay, too far, i get that. wh--”

Elaina’s patience had run thin, and she snapped, “Dickhole! Stop being nosy, jesus fuck! Why are you acting like this?”

Sans rolled his white dots that served as eyes. “sorry. normally my ‘clients’ are kind of boring. she seems interesting. i want to know what _her_ deal is.” He blinked as if he realized you could hear him. He glanced at you. “what your deal is.”

You frowned. “I’m done,” you stated plainly, turning around.

Sans was suddenly in front of you again. You startled slightly but quickly regained your composure. “sheesh. i’m sorry. here. an apology.” He tossed you a cigarette. “you have a lighter?”

You took out yours and lit the little stick breezily, blowing out some smoke. It was like second nature to you by now. About three years ago, you’d picked up the habit to cope with her. It made for a great distraction, although not a pleasant one at times. You could focus on the wisps of gray around you while you were smoking, and while you weren’t, you could focus on wanting to smoke. A constant thought at the back of your head to replace the others.

Sans eyed you for a moment, then shrugged. “let’s not decide on a trade now, huh? come back to me when we’re back at the normal camp. we’ll figure out somethin’ then.”

Elaina rolled her eyes. “You fucking weirdo. Let’s go, Harris. I’ll make sure he’s less of a prick next time.”

“harsh.”

“Accurate, though.”

The already wide grin on his face grew wider and he chuckled. “got me there. later, queenie. unless you want your own now?”

“I don’t have grub for ya on me. Sorry. ‘Sides. I can’t smell like smoke tonight. You know the Dreemurrs’ll get angry.”

“damn. next time?”

“Sure. Later, Bones.”

Sans waved at you. “i’ll see you again, harris.” He winked, and then he was gone.

 

You looked on in silence, trying to pinpoint if he had returned to the far-off place he was before. When you spotted a silhouetted figure once again forming a cloud of smoke around itself, you turned and began to walk. “Ambassador said smoke makes monsters sick.”

Elaina looked at you in surprise. “Oh yeah?” She nodded slightly, the same way someone did when the person you were fighting with made a decent point. “Eh, well, it does for most. In fact, the only one I’ve ever seen actually smoke without getting all weak and cough-y and shaky is Sans. He’s an oddball for sure. It’s weird that it makes them so sick when you think about it.”

You looked at her, waiting for an explanation.

She sighed. “Uh. ‘Cause like, some of their magic has smoke? There’s smoke in battles, too. That doesn’t affect them. Just cigarettes and things of the like.” She closed her eyes as the two of you marched back. “I think the sickness it causes must be because of the tobacco. Or _some_ thing. I’m no scientist. I don’t know shit about anything, if I’m being frank with ya.”

“Hm.” You looked onwards, thinking to yourself as you again held the picture in your pocket. It had been a long time since you’d looked at it, surprisingly. You just hadn’t found the time. With all the planning you’d been involved with and constant pressure of betraying the army you fought with for a year and the abandonment of your true purpose, it had faded from your mind.

And that frightened you immensely.

You chewed your lip as the two of you walked back.

Elaina suddenly stopped. “Oh! You need a place to sleep for tonight! God, I should have talked to Queen Toriel about that.”

“Maycombe went.”

“Oh, did she? So you know?”

“No. While she got her, I came with you.”

“Well, yikes. We should get back a little faster, then. Doesn’t look good when they can’t find me. You might want to finish your smoke fast.”

You heeded her warning, puffing on it more. “Probably should throw out my pack too,” you said offhandedly.

“Ambassador know you smoke?”

“Yeah.”

“Don’t throw out your pack or lighter, then. They’ll think you hid it somewhere. Better to let it be confiscated. Kind of a waste, sure, but. It’s better that way. _Trust me._ Know this one chick, part of my little squad. Awful smoking habit. One of those people that smokes a pack a day. Used to be a marine before this whole war. Hard time for her to shift to this whole… thing. Snuck in a pack, got caught. She hid it before they could confiscate. Of course, they knew she had it, so then they had to search her whole room in the barracks. They found it, she got in trouble. Not the worst, but not something you’d want, either. Extra duties and work and shit. If she’d just coughed it up, probably wouldn’t have been as bad.”

“Hm,” you said.

“That girl’s all about recklessness. She’s kind of impulsive. And dumb. I figure she’s been that way her whole life. Got hurt recently ‘cause of it. I have to work on it with her.”

You just nodded uncomfortably.

“So, why d’ya smoke?” Elaina asked, cracking her knuckles.

You chewed your lip. “Just started doing it.”

“Didn’t smoke before the war?”

“No,” you replied.

“Why not?” she pushed.

You paused, contemplating your answer. _My sister didn’t like it,_ you thought, so you said, “Never felt the urge.”

“Oh yeah? Well, I get that. I’ve always had a bit of a habit. Ever since I was twenty. Mostly healthy besides it. I hated it when I was in high school, but, life’s funny. You do shit you never would’ve before. I’m sure you get that.”

“Yeah.”

“When it gets hard, you gotta find another way. And sometimes, you just do shit. Y’know? You just do.”

“Yeah.”

She looked at you out of the corner of her eye. “You really _are_ quiet. Like, not to be like that stupid pile of bones, but it is a little hard to keep a conversation going with you.”

You looked away, uncomfortable. “Sorry,” you said after a moment.

“Well, whatever,” Elaina shrugged. “Not my place to judge.”

Thankfully, she stopped talking. You relished in the silence, your sister consuming your thoughts. You ran your fingers over the picture in your pocket nervously, walking faster so that hopefully you could look at it.

It was getting chilly.

“So, you have any other clothes?”

“No,” you said, slightly irritably.

“You covered up your Human garb with that jacket,” she said nonchalantly.

“Sure.”

“You ashamed?”

“No,” you said.

“So why cover it up?”

“I like the jacket.”

She whistled awkwardly. “Well, it looks comfortable, I guess.”

“Mhm.”

“So, how’d you and your friend meet?” Elaina asked, as you gratefully entered back into camp with the majority of other soldiers.

“Both were in Maven,” you said.

“Yeah, but I mean, when’d she start talking to you?”

You thought about your answer. In reality, you had confronted Felicity and struck up conversation with her. When you saw her, you couldn’t help but see your sister, too. Small, those striking gray eyes, chirpy, sweet. Happiness where maybe there shouldn’t be any. She wasn’t Abby in every way, though. No one could be. The fact that she was as similar to your sister as she was was lucky.

“Hello?”

You blinked once, looking back at Corporal Elaina. “Oh. When we were eating.”

“You sat alone?”

“Mm.”

“She feel bad for you?”

You shrugged.

“That’s okay, too. Seems like you two really click.”

“Sure,” you said. “We do.”

“It’s an interesting dynamic, I suppose,” she said. You were getting slightly irritated. Everyone was slightly hypocritical from time to time. But this was beyond annoying. You were done talking. You had no interest in bonding or learning about her or her learning about you.

Being done talking, you stopped talking entirely. You would acknowledge her with an “mm” every once in a while, and after a few moments of uncomfortable silence, Elaina again apologized for pushing you to be chatty and walked on without a peep.

It was cold now. You weren’t bothered by it, to be completely honest. After all, when the government had crumbled, electricity and heat were hard to come by. That meant that while you had a house, it was kept warm by fire. Not great. At some point you got a generator, but soon after that you had left the house. You refused to go back to it. You couldn’t go back to it. You couldn’t go back to the stains inside and the mound surrounded by stones outside. Even now, years after it had happened, years after you had left the house behind, you would not be able to drag yourself back there.

Smoke twisted around you, furling in winds and coils that were reminiscent of a vine that had been allowed to grow for decades without someone to tame it.

You liked the way it looked.

Pretty and wholly new. But dangerous and not worth more shit from Frisk.

Your fingers grew numb with the chilly night air as you threw your cigarette down and stomped on it.

It was always cold the year you lived on the streets. It snowed often that year and without much for pairs of clothes and snow boots, you had just learned how to live with it. It was far too dangerous to live statically while in a dilapidated city full of gangs with guns, so creating a home with a generator was unrealistic.

You’d learned to fight there. It was all you could learn.

And then, after about a year, you had found yourself saving the life of a Human general and were offered a position among their ranks. Warm, with a family, and food, and a bed, and training.

All you cared about was the army and the training.

It was how you could do what you had to do.

 

Not anymore, though.

Not anymore.

 

Elaina spoke again. “Oh great, I see the queen. Come with me, Harris. She’ll show you where to go.”

You looked up to see your small friend beside Konner Preston and an elegant woman in a purple dress with embellished runes on the front.

 

And you followed Elaina as you greeted them, the memories invading your world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> any feedback very appreciated! would love to hear from you guys, have a great day! any of yall excited about deltarune?


	5. Abby.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heyo look extra chapter as promised and im starting the next one too

The queen was a tall woman with shining white fur. Her eyes were a warm burgundy that were always crinkled with a soft smile. Two little fangs protruded from her mouth like a vampire’s would, paired with two, gleaming ivory cone-shaped horns atop her head. You had seen her before on television, newspapers, and online before the war broke out, but you had no idea she was quite as tall as she was. At least 6’2”, she towered over you, Elaina, Konner, and especially Felicity. You had been told she was a goat monster, though she had long ears akin to a beagle’s, unlike the kind of goats you were familiar with.

Her voice was a gentle hum as she spoke about where you three “heroes” ( _ traitors _ ) would be resing.

“Of course, we were expecting you,” she twinkled, “so we had rooms prepared. We expected more of you, to be entirely honest, so there is a tad excess at the moment. Tomorrow morning, we will set off for our home base, cleverly named Home Base by my creative husband.” She huffed a little. “I expect you will be interviewed on the way to Home Base. If not, it will be when we return.”

“Interviewed?” Konner Preston asked, turning pale.

“Yes, all monsters and monster allies will want to know of who you are and what you’ve done,” Queen Toriel explained. “After all, Frisk is such a symbol of hope. The fact that they were held in captivity as they were was great a stress upon our troops and allies. They negotiate so much of the peace that we need and act as a bridge between peoples. The people who rescued them will be remembered. Your stories, your journeys, your sacrifices… Truly, this is somewhat of a turning point for us. And it is thanks to you and the bravery of the others who did not make it here. We will all be eternally grateful to your memories.” You were going to one of the least dilapidated buildings by the lead of the queen. A temporary place for a brief sleep.

Felicity smiled at the who towered near two feet over her kindly. “It’s our duty, Queen Toriel. We swore to assist your troops from the inside. We all were willing to do what was needed.”

You tensed a little. You did not do this for the monsters.

The troops, the war, the ambassador; you did not do any of it for them.

You did it because Felicity did.

And now you had no purpose.

You left it behind.

Had you died, as planned, this would be no issue.

As it was, you were now being given a false wreath of laurels to wear upon your head.

Liar.

Traitor.

Queen Toriel had been speaking and you missed it. Vaguely, you heard her talking more about heroes. You glanced over to Preston and caught his eye. He seemed just as apprehensive as you felt and the two of you shared an uncommon moment of consolidation. Felicity, you knew, did not bask in the glory presented to her, and would never, but she could sit within the place before it and accept that it was earned and that she was a hero. You, and it seemed, Preston, did not want to be within a spotlight that had no dignity for the selfish. 

You broke eye contact with him and assessed him silently as you looked onward. Preston smoked much like you did, and you wondered if Elaina would have introduced him to Sans as well (that skeleton-- did he have a last name? You realized you had no idea). If you strained your memory, you could vaguely recall his face outside with the other crew of smokers from Maven. He must not have gone there often, however, because you knew all the faces of the regulars well. He struck you as the kind of man who would only rarely smoke and would do it expressly to let off steam. In a way, he reminded you of yourself with his silence and awkwardness. You wondered what his family life was like. Why did he join the war? Why was he a spy? Did he switch sides or had he been like Felicity? Had he picked the Humans for convenience such as you, or had he joined them because he agreed with their message?

It would remain a mystery. You weren’t about to go prying into his life and you had the distinct impression he wasn’t about to expel his life story.

The building was close now. There were soldiers outside of it, standing shoulder to shoulder. There was the Monster emblem-- the Delta Rune-- on their uniforms.

They stopped you all excluding the queen.

One of them, a man taller than Preston but shorter than the queen outstretched his hand. “Weapons,” he stated dryly.

The monsters on either side of him carefully watched you all. Felicity obliged, unclipping her pistol and handing it over and handing the gun that you liked to joke was taller than her to him as well. Preston did the same, though he included the bombs he had on his personnel as well. You handed your pistol and handed your MI6.

Felicity’s eyes bore into your head, and thin-lipped, you unsheathed your knife and handed it to the expectant man. He raised a brow.

“No hard feelings. It’s a security measure.”

“Of course,” said Felicity.

Preston grunted and you remained silent. The guns were easy to part with. You didn’t care for them much anyways, due to your past. The knife, however, was your security. It was what you were most comfortable with. You enjoyed the cool grip of the handle in your palm and the way it sliced through anything with the smoothness and fluidity of a flowing river. It made you fast, made you aware, made you safe.

And, you supposed, made you dangerous.

There was a brief search for further weapons by the guards. They found your lighter and cigarettes, raising their brows.

“I’m sorry, ____, but we don’t allow smoking here. Maybe Frisk told you?”

“Yeah.” You handed them over sullenly and watched them be taken away.

Your other pocket was searched and suddenly your heart was tight and you were terrified and you wanted the man’s hand  _ out _ because it was yours. It was yours. That picture was all you had. Please.

He left it and moved on to your other pockets.

They took your extra ammo, and that was all. You felt your muscles shrink.

You walked in the building. You could tell the building was one that was inhabited frequently. You doubted it was by the Monsters, but you could tell that it was them who cleaned it out. The homeless who lived there were likely hiding, dead, or waiting for the Monsters to leave their shelter. There were shelters, but not here. This was too close to battle. Only on either end of the country could you find shelters, and there, they weren’t needed. Fights occurred over the middle ground because it was there to be claimed. Both had lost territory, both had gained; both had set up their governments, both had to change them to fit the desire of the people in hopes of gaining soldiers; both had saved lives, both had taken lives. Those who were far from the heart of the fighting lived a changed life, but not a broken one. That was reserved for you, for the ones who were forced into the middle of it all.

God fucking dammit you hated this war and everyone who started it.

_ Even the queen? _

You watched her as she laughed with one of the guards, showing Preston his room.

_ She didn’t start it. _

You looked away, little angry and hurt bubbles popping. It was painful. You wanted to be able to blame more people without guilt. You wanted to point to someone and tell them that everything that had happened-- it was because of them.

At least you could always blame  _ that _ piece of trash.

Your “brother.”

Repulsive.

Hate.

you

hated

him

it’s

his

fault

that

she

“____?” the queen asked. You looked at her, alert.

She laughed softly and smiled. “This room, is it to your liking?”

You peered in. There was a vanity, bed, and chair inside. Homey.

“Yeah. Thanks,” you said softly. “Your Highness,” you added clumsily, stepping into the doorframe.

“Oh, please, my dear, you don’t need to bother with such formalities,” Queen Toriel laughed. “I don’t care about that. For many years, I didn’t act as such. It feels unfair to my people to expect such a thing when I left my duties.”

“Queen Toriel,” a monster soldier sighed, “you  _ know _ we understand. We do not blame you. You’re still our queen.”

“Well, thank you, Jax. Just know I don’t expect that from you.”

Awkwardly you shuffled in the room. “Okay,” you said. “I, uh. Appreciate your, er, uh. Ah. Kindness.” Fuck. How the hell did you talk to people formally? Whatever. Here you were. Fuck it.

Felicity smiled and rolled her eyes at you. She gave you a thumbs-up and mouthed,  _ “Good effort.” _

In return, you pursed your lips, though your the corners of them turned up slightly. They all bid you farewell and you closed the door.

She reminded you of her.

Felicity.

Abby.

You sat down at the chair in front of the vanity and sighed heavily, running a hand through your hair.

Sometimes Abby used to play with it. She liked it when it was long because her hair never was. Always choppy with bangs over her eyes. She liked it like that. It was cute. You liked it too. And you liked keeping your hair long so that she could play with it when you visited. Of course, back then, you’d liked it that way anyways. Now, more often than not, it was a nuisance. But you couldn’t get rid of it.

It was a part of her.

Shaking.

You were shaking when you pulled out the picture.

You took a deep breath and looked down.

This picture was one Aunt Rebecca had in her house. It was your favorite one.

You remembered when it was taken. A sunny day. It was just before the war broke out, and your mother suggested a photo for Aunt Becky of her two favorite nieces. Richard got his own picture, but that didn’t matter.

You were behind Abby, smiling widely and looking years younger. Your cheeks were full instead of sullen, your skin was bright and glowy, you wore makeup, your hair was clean and glistened with a color just a few shades lighter than Abby’s. You looked pretty. You guessed. But that didn’t matter.

Abby.

She was twelve. Her hair was cut at her shoulder and her bangs were parted to the right. Gray eyes gleamed and her face was spotted by her freckles. A little gap between her front teeth that she hated but you loved. She was happy. She was vibrant. Her shirt was pretty basic. Abby loved simplicity. She was never one for fancy clothes and lady-like tendencies and you

were crying.

She looked alive.

And you stared into those living eyes caught in a moment and you could not stop your mind from bringing back the memory of those eyes fading away.

She was shot.

Shot in your own home.

You held her and you remembered her screams and they made you want to scream and somewhere deep down you remembered screaming for days after she was gone.

Bloodstains and fear.

She had told you that she was scared.

And then?

S h e  w a s d e a d .

Richard killed her and ran like a coward.

And you hated him.

You wanted his blood to run in the streets. You wanted to tear his arms apart and his legs and make sure he was suffering. It would never be enough for what he did. She was dead, and it was because Richard was a coward and a filthy blood traitor who wanted to join the Human army more than he wanted to care for his younger sister and he killed her in cold blood without a reason or a word otherwise and you could feel the seething fury that seeped from the cracks between your teeth and pulled your muscles taut.

He killed an unarmed twelve year-old girl. A coward. She was harmless. She  _ t r u s t e d _ him.

You joined the Human army two years after the death of your little sister to rise through the ranks. You did it to build more strength than you already had. You did it to get close. You did it so one day you could kill him. You spent a year there, waiting for the day you could avenge her. That  _ renowned  _ Human general. If you died afterwards, that was fine. The only reason you stayed on the world as long as you did was because you needed to 

_ k i l l _

_ h i m _

_. _

You failed.

You hadn’t killed him.

And now, you were just as lost as you had been three years ago when your sister died in your arms, pleading for you to save her.

And so you cried in your arms, remembering all the aches and stings of failure to save the only person you loved more than all the worlds and suns and stars and moons and animals and people and flowers and stories and causes.

 

She was all you had,

and so you had nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ayyy my birthday is exactly a week from today anyways hope u enjoy the chapter yallll


	6. Angelwood

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks all for reading :) hope you had a merry christmas and have a happy new year!! next chapter's gonna be a fun one to write ;)

You didn’t sleep. It was too hard.

Sometimes there were nights like that; you’d lie awake with the thoughts tumbling in and clouding your vision with a thick murk and screams echoing in your head endlessly. When you first committed to sacrificing yourself, those sleepless nights happened all the time.

It was because you knew you weren’t avenging her. You owed that much to her at least. You knew that had she been alive, she would have supported you fighting for the Monster’s cause, but you never wanted any part in the war. Richard had always wanted to join the fight for the Humans. Abby had always supported the Monsters. Your parents never talked about politics.

You, though, just wanted to make things safe for Abby. Especially after your parents never came back. The only thing that could have happened to them didn’t bear thinking about, but for your little sister’s sake, you did it. You thought about how to tell her that they were probably dead because it wasn’t fair to give the girl false hope. And you found a way. It was hard, but you did it, and he, well, he did nothing.

Had he ever?

Nothing good.

Piece of shit.

Scum.

S c  u m.

You stared at your reflection in the mirror. Your tears had dried hours ago. The puffiness was gone. The girl looking back at you was back to her blank slate. There wasn’t any hint of a dead sister in her eyes. There was no family behind her face. She was a soldier, she was a weapon, and that was it.

Strength first.

Everything else, anything else, later.

You stared at her. She was older than you remembered. Where her twenties should have rested on her face, centuries festered. The face itself looked its age, more or less, but it was the flatness, the slump, the tired eyes… You wondered if Abby would recognize her. She didn’t look like you. You weren’t even sure if there was a “you” anymore. It had been so long since you’d given much consideration to yourself.

The last time you had was when you finally mustered up the courage to talk to Felicity. She was always peppy, but usually she sat alone when it was time to eat, doing her own thing. You just sat across from her, without a word, and that was it. She adopted you. The two of you were together whenever you could be. It wasn’t like a best friend. Nor a sister; not like Abby, at least. It was its own thing.

There was rapping at your door.

“Harris?” Felicity called softly. You glanced out the window and saw darkness. A vague hint of sun was in the sky, but it was still far too early to be awake. The quiet rapping echoed in the room. Closing your eyes and sighing softly, you opened the door.

“What?” you asked. It came out more blunt than you intended, but you couldn’t undo it. Felicity looked like she understood, though.

“I can’t… I can’t sleep.”

You nodded.

“I feel all wrong inside.”

You nodded again, then let her inside your room and sat on your bed next to her.

“You can’t sleep, either,” she said softly, looking at the unperturbed bedding.

“Yeah,” you agreed.

Silence, and then Felicity had a hand spread over her glossy, gray eyes and began to weep.

She did that from time to time. It scared you when she did; your anxiety peaked in distressing spikes and your heart thundered in your ears and throbbed in your chest cavity. So you did what you always did when she scared you like that, and held her to your chest, resting your head atop her own. Her small hands curled in your shirt and she whimpered.

“It’s so much harder than I thought. Seeing the monsters. Hearing them call me a hero.”

“I know.”

She cried, then. No words. She let the pain come out without words, and that was okay. You understood the guilt. You knew that she had been in the battles. You knew the sacrifices she made and the ones she killed to be there.

“You’re okay,” you said softly, holding her tighter and brushing a few flyaway curls from her face.

She didn’t respond, but that was expected. She would cry, and then she would, after about ten or fifteen minutes, return to her room. It was how it always went-- you knew the routine.

You didn’t say anything else, partially because you didn’t know how, partially because you saw no point. Felicity didn’t seek your company for your vocabulary, anyways. After knowing you for nearly a year, maybe more, potentially, she had come to accept that you were far more comfortable with your brief statements and listening than engagement, like most. She pushed you out of that shell slightly, and still liked teasing you, but she truly understood that it was unlikely to ever actually change. You found that your words didn’t matter, and if they didn’t matter, then you didn’t really have any desire to share them. Besides, conversation was a drag. Mostly one-dimensional. A lie. You disliked the policy of lying on principle. That’s why you didn’t tell her “It’s okay,” because what she had done probably wasn’t. She understood what you meant. And she understood that you were genuine. To her, at least. You never lied to her (only neglected to mention certain things).  _ That _ was why she came to you. And it wasn’t just an assumption on your end, either; she had told you herself that was the reason.

She sniffed, her crying very gradually slowing down. You knew it was awful, but you couldn’t help but think of Abby while you held her and the sadness you already felt began to prickle once more.Felicity was too small to feel the same way your sister had when you held her, but she was close enough that you could feel Abby’s ghost whispering down your neck.

It was quiet for about five minutes as Felicity finally calmed herself. She hesitantly pulled herself away, holding her head. She offered a smile, then quietly thanked you, and turned back, leaving.

And you were alone on your bed.

In the dark.

Despite yourself, you put your head in your hands, and hated yourself as the warm tears fell down your cheeks again.

 

You fell asleep eventually, though you doubted you slept for more than an hour. You woke up to rapping on your door. Groggily, you opened it, only to instantly have clothes shoved in your face. You furrowed your brows and looked up, trying your best to not look as irritated upon meeting the kind gaze of the queen.

“Good morning, ____. I’ve brought you a new uniform to change into. We’re leaving in twenty minutes for home base, and I thought it might be better if you weren’t in your Human apparel. Your leather jacket shields it fairly well, but we don’t want anyone to make a mistake. Just a precaution! I’m terribly sorry for the early wake-up call, but you know how it is.”

“Yeah,” you said. “Thanks for the clothes.”

“Of course!” She smiled and happily loomed in the door.

You stared up awkwardly. You didn’t know how to tell her to leave. “Yes,” you enunciated a bit robotically, stepping inside your room. “Your majesty.” You remembered she told you not to do that, but you already had, so you just retreated further into your room as she chuckled and closed the door.

You didn’t really change much. You weren’t about to discard your armor, but the dirty shirt underneath could go. Your clothes still looked more Human than Monster, but it was better than before. To hide the fact, you zipped your leather jacket up and stuffed your hands in the pockets. It was fine this way. You would never fully blend in.

You stared at the girl in the mirror again.

She was something, maybe.

And you left the room, brushing your hand against the picture in your pocket.

 

Leaving was chaotic.

People left and right, stressing out, moving in near silence, trucks and tanks and large monsters swarming around those who were walking.

You, Konner, and Felicity were to be in the back of a military caravan with Queen Toriel and Ambassador Frisk. You disliked it immensely, but it wasn’t really like you had a choice.

There was loud rumbling and bustling outside. Felicity peeked out of the fabric shielding her view of the world, saw a massive walking spider with a smaller spider girl riding it, and let it fall back, nervously scooting closer to you. She didn’t like spiders much. You didn’t have the most positive feelings towards them either, but you’d stopped being scared of them years ago.

Konner Preston stayed silent, rubbing his hands together nervously. “What route are we taking to the base?” he blurted out stiffly about two hours into the ride. It was the first time he’d said a complete sentence the entire ride, even though Toriel and Frisk had been attempting to start conversations.

The queen seemed startled, but she smiled warmly. “You’re concerned?”

“It’s just a big group. Big, noticeable group. That’s all.”

Frisk uncrossed their arms and leaned forwards. “Some of our monsters have magic that can impair visuals. They can make it look like we’re invisible from most angles.”

“And the sound?” Konner asked. “I don’t mean to doubt you. But I think that all perimeters of all bases are going to be heavily guarded. And I’ve been watching where we’ve been going, and we’re cutting it awfully close. In my opinion.”

“Sound is a tad more complicated, but I wouldn’t worry too much, dear,” Toriel stated. “Of course, I understand your concern. But we have several monsters who are using strong magics to protect us. The visuals are not our only line of defense. Several chunks of the Monster troops who traveled have barrier magic around them. It’s not anything like the Barrier we had underground, because it’s only monster magic and only being cast by five or so monsters, but it will protect us long enough, should something happen.”

“Okay,” Konner said, clearly unconvinced. “Angelwood’s just a risky city.”

The hairs on the back of your neck stood on end. You hadn’t been taking into account where you were, exactly. Angelwood wasn’t really a city-- it was too small. Instead, it was a large town. You understood Konner’s anxiety, however. You suddenly shared it. Not only was Angelwood very close to a Human base, it had one of the more bloodthirsty street populations.

You had lived there, briefly, the year after Abby died. At that point, you’d already grown skilled with your knife and knew how to use a gun to save your life, but that place was still dangerous. Most of the cities had homeless people in them to even out the gangs. But not Angelwood. It was quiet certain times. Times when the gangs or militias were preparing for the next fight.

You’d gone there for the food. That was why it was so fought over, after all. The only way to get food and to get decent supplies was to join one of the sides. But you hated that shit, so you tried your hand at getting what you wanted without bowing down. Didn’t go great. Wasn’t too productive. You actually made a few enemies there.

Oh well. You probably wouldn’t die. Though you found it unlikely that Angelwood’s people wouldn’t attack. It was in their nature. It was how they lived now.

“Angelwood isn’t very big, if I recall,” Felicity projected. “We won’t be here long. I’m sure it’s going to be fine.”

Konner nodded a little, but he clearly still had no faith in anything being said to him.

“Really. Don’t you agree, ____?”

You disliked that she brought you into it. Awkwardly, you looked at her from the corners of you eyes. You crossed your arms against your chest and shrugged a little.

“ _ What? _ Are you serious?” Your friend was aghast.

You shrugged again, scooting away from her critical gaze. Felicity snorted a little, then turned back to Preston and insisted that everything would be fine and that you were just an incredibly dramatic person.

“I’m sure we’ll be fine,” the queen reassured you as Maycombe spoke, patting your knee.

“Yeah, Mom’s right,” Frisk yawned. “Besides, there’s lots of protection for this car alone. We’re golden.”

You nodded, and then two fell silent, looking off nowhere in particular.

You looked at them, gauging them in silence. They were completely unlike Abby, but that wasn’t exactly relevant. What you were mainly thinking about what how in the  _ fuck _ they were captured in the first place. You had been told it was on the battlefield-- but now that you knew they were fourteen, maybe fifteen at  _ most, _ too young to drive a car, you couldn’t believe they’d been permitted there. Ambassadors had no need to be directly involved in warfare, and children never should be put anywhere near such brutality. You doubted the queen would put someone she considered her child on the field, and based on your knowledge of King Asgore, you doubted he would, either. Which led you to think that they sought it out. They ventured there themselves and on purpose. And now they had paid the price. Two fingers amputated and who the hell knows what other kinds of torture.

They caught your gaze, startling you slightly. You didn’t look away, though. It had less to do with not wanting to and more to do with your uncertainty of how to act in any situation that was mildly uncomfortable.

Frisk looked down finally, and Queen Toriel took their hand. She looked pained as her eyes traveled over the mutilated hand. Grief wrung her features and she kissed the top of her child’s hand delicately, holding it close.

“I’m so sorry,” she murmured. You barely heard it because of Felicity’s yammering, but you were sure that was what she said.

You felt jealous she could say that. You forced yourself to turn your attention to what was happening outside of the caravan.

The giant spider had lumbered beyond and was out of sight. More vehicles and walking soldiers had replaced it. One of the soldiers walking you recognized. It was that skeleton, Sans. He was walking with a certain carelessness that you figured was typical of him. Almost instinctively, you felt your face scrunch up. You disliked his attitude and his smug aura. Of course the only guy you knew you could get your cigarettes from had to be a douche. You wished someone that you liked better dealt them, but it wasn’t really like you knew that many people anyways. Laurel and Eden had seemed fine, but then again, chatty. Same for Elaina. You frowned, realizing you hadn’t seen many men yet. Strange, especially for war. It must have been on purpose. Maybe women were less suspicious when traveling. Or maybe, because they were more talkative, they had just stood out more.

The skeleton suddenly looked up and smirked, catching your eyes. He waved. You did not.

Felicity was trying to get your attention anyways, so you turned your attention back to what was happening inside the vehicle.

“Finally. Are you deaf?” She didn’t wait for an answer. “I was trying to talk to them about you.”

“Oh,” you said.

“Your talent?” she persisted.

“Knives,” you finished, shrinking into yourself.

“Knives?” Frisk repeated, startled. They were suddenly pale and their hands tightly gripped their pants in nervousness.

You nodded. Maybe they had a thing with knives after their fingers. You didn’t know, of course, but there wasn’t any real part of you that was interested in understanding it. They were a kid, and they were in way over their head. Stuck in a world meant for adults and for what reason, exactly? Oh, that’s right, because they had the misfortune to take a great tumble into a chasm and discover the species everyone else had longed to forget.

Felicity jabbed your shoulder. “What about knives?” She raised her eyebrows. “C’mon, Harris. A little talking never hurt anyone.”

You disagreed with that, but you didn’t feel like being pestered, so you said, “I’m good in close combat. I’m good at being… nimble.” And you figured she would be satisfied with that.

You noticed Konner shift in position as if he was trying to get a better view of you. You knew that he, being quiet, was about to be Maycombe’s next target, so you weren’t too bothered by his staring. Felicity’s discomfort regarding silence was strange to you, mainly due to the fact that she had decided to stay with the taciturn person you were. Then again, you recalled your interaction earlier in the morning, and her connection to you was less baffling.

It was quiet again. No one seemed to have anything to add, which was what you preferred in any given situation. A conversation that was unnecessary should end bluntly. Small talk was awkward for everyone. Of course, no one else in the fucking world liked that though, and the only person in the caravan who you thought might share your view decided to try to push a dead conversation.

“Knives, you said,” Konner piped up. You nodded. He continued, “I thought that was ya. You’re the one who went on all those excursions, right? The ones out to places like here. Angelwood. I’ve seen ya before.”

“I didn’t go to Angelwood on an excursion,” you said.

“But places like it,” he insisted. “I think we’ve been onna few together.”

“Excursions?” Queen Toriel cut in. “What kind of excursions?”

Konner seemed pleased that he’d been able to provide something of interest. “Not excursions, technically, I guess. We’d go out and get some supplies, but our main goal was to take down some of tha militias going ‘round the cities. Dangerous. Harmful to a lotta the homeless people who can’t or won’t find another place to go.”

The queen leaned back, impressed. “Interesting. And so they used those who were skilled in close combat there frequently, like you?”

“Easier to limit innocent casualties,” you told her.

Konner added, “It’s hard to get in that kinda thing though. Gotta be fast. Think quickly. When they have guns and you don’t, it’s a lot harder.”

“Did you also do close combat?” Frisk asked.

“Rarely,” Konner said. “I don’t really like being that up close. It’s not like it was the only option.”

“Of course,” Queen Toriel replied. She seemed eager to speak to Konner, now that he had opened himself up slightly. You didn’t care to do the same.

The others involved themselves in conversation. Felicity was engaging lightly, trying to push you into it, but you felt like you had spoken plenty for the time. She gave up quickly, but still didn’t commit fully to the others. You guessed that she didn’t have too much to really add.

You leaned back and felt boredom itch at you. All you wanted was some quiet, really. A few hours of it alone in a room after turning traitor and killing people once considered comrades didn’t seem like enough to you. You wondered to yourself if it’d be frowned upon to sleep. Not only would it effectively pass the time, but you were feeling exceptionally groggy from practically no sleep for several days.

The debate about sleep went on for a few minutes more, until you decided you couldn’t be bothered to give a shit and that you wanted to fucking sleep.

Your eyes drifted shut, and the dark the lids gave you acted as a warm sheet to lull you beyond. It was welcome. It felt right to be like this, and to be secluded. The chatter outside faded in and out as you allowed sleep to take you under its wing.

 

You dreamt of her.

 

It was about a time when you were both younger, when you were a junior and Abby was a first grader. Something fairly basic about a sister lunch. The two of you were at your favorite fast food restaurant and you were answering her questions about what thinking for college was like. She was curious about physics and your physics classes and how everything worked, and you did your best to explain to her what you knew. With eyes brimming full of dedication and passion, she insisted that she would be the best scientist the world ever saw. You agreed with her and she smiled at you, and you felt happy. She began to ramble excitedly about everything she could discover and the possibility of winning the Nobel Prize. Abby loved to do that-- any chance she got to express her dreams, she would, without fail.

Then the conversation faded the numbness, and you were suddenly alone and covered in blood in a bathroom where she was lying in front of you, if you looked up, you’d see, you’d see the source of the stains all over your hoodie, you’d see, you’d see--

 

A loud, gruff voice woke you up. Your hands were trembling and your breath was unsteady. No one took note, however, because General Undyne was getting in the caravan. She spoke again, her voice clear and firm. “Queen Toriel, what course should we take?”

Everyone was tense as Toriel answered, “How sure are we of their presence?”

“They’re waiting not too far off. Muffet saw them.”

“We will take the longer route, then. Send word to change course immediately.”

Undyne bowed, and left the caravan.

Felicity leaned over to you and whispered, “The Humans are waiting for us.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for being so patient with me! next chap coming (hopefully) relatively soon!


	7. A Soldier First

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIS ISNT AS EARLY AS I WANTED GAAAAAAAAAAAAAH but school just started back up so its been a little harder but i tried to make this one better which is partially why it took longer so i hope yall enjoy:)

You sat up straight. Everyone else was motionless and wide-eyed. The queen held Frisk in her arms, and you were reminded again that they were just a kid. They didn’t belong here.

You looked around Felicity to see Konner. He was still, staring at the floor. No one did anything.

And it was in those moments of silence, you wondered if anyone else doubted that those lying in wait for you were the Humans at all. You felt in your gut that it was worse than them. Like Preston had said before, Anglewood was dangerous. And you had no reason to doubt that they might have been hired to kill Monster troops in exchange for immunity or supplies.

You didn’t know what to do. If it was Angelwood’s people, they wouldn’t be waiting where they were long. The Humans didn’t know the ins and outs of the city, so you had faith if they were the attackers, escape was possible-- but the residents were not so easily thwarted.

“I want to see,” you said.

“You what now?” Felicity asked. Everyone was staring.

“I want to see the troops.”

“Are you crazy? We already know they’re there,” Felicity said.

“It’s not them,” you said firmly.

A pause, and then Frisk an incredulous “ _ What? _ ” from Frisk.

“It’s not the Humans.”

“You don’t know that,” Felicity replied.

“I’m going to see,” you stated plainly, and without another word or thought, you left the caravan. When you hit the ground, you stumbled slightly, but you only stumbled for a moment and then, despite the surprised sounds from the monsters who had seen you, you marched onwards. You were moving faster than the other walking troops because your weapons hadn’t been returned, and therefore lacked the extra weight.

“Harris!” Felicity hissed from the open window flap. “Come  _ back here!” _

But you kept walking. You were fairly certain you knew who Muffet was, after all, there was a rhyme.

_ Little Miss Muffet sat on a tuffet, eating her curds and whey. Along came a spider who sat down beside her and frightened Miss Muffet away. _

Spider.

The one you’d see before was tall enough to see over buildings, and had the opportunity to witness troops from far away. It was lumbering on far in the front, and you marched towards it.

People gave you odd looks as you pushed through, moving quickly. You could hear that Konner Preston was following you because he was calling out for you in that same hiss. Felicity may have been with him, but her voice was small and if she was, you couldn’t hear her.

Preston grabbed your shoulder roughly. “I need to see them,” you found yourself saying in response to him.

“Queen Toriel wants us back--”

“Get off,” you snarled, hitting his hand away. “I need to see who it is.”

And before his hands could grab you again, more roughly, you picked up the pace, your target in sight. You had to know-- you already knew, but you didn’t want it to be true-- you had to see.

And Preston was breaking through the crowd, and the troopers were being drawn to you, and you had to change course.

Undyne. The general was your best bet now. Her bright red ponytail was gleaming closeby, and you moved quicker. She was talking to someone, most likely telling them of the change of plans.

“General Undyne!” you called out, your heart racing. God, you hated attention. You hated talking. Fuck. Motherfucker. You hated Preston just a little bit for following you in the first place, but you didn’t expect him not to. 

The fish woman turned around, looking at you with a raised brow. Her one yellow eye pierced into you. “You’re supposed to be with Toriel and Frisk,” her voice rasped.

“I need to see them,” you said, trying your best to ignore the lump in your throat as you walked beside her. Your voice was quiet and scratchy.

Understanding washed over her face and she scoffed, looking away. “You do, huh? Why’s that?” She looked irritated.  _ Oh fucking well. _ You were already there, and you needed to know.

“They aren’t who you think they are,” you insisted.

“They were wearing their garb,” she replied, moving her gaze from you.

“Let me see them,” you repeated.

“Let’s go,” Konner said, grabbing your arm and tugging on you.

“No. It’s the people who live here,” you said. “It’s the militia that lives here--” It was hard to speak. You were scared. The anxiety was gnawing at you and you wanted to throw up. Why was this so hard? Why was it so hard for you to force out the words? Why was your voice being caught up in your throat? This had been easy once, why wasn’t it now?

But Undyne turned to you then, looking more serious, and your worry faded slightly. “The militia that lives here?”

And you were relieved that Konner took over. He no longer was tugging you away. Instead, he had tensed and you could see that he saw what you saw.

The Humans never came near Angelwood with weapons. It would be a declaration against their people. The militias didn’t care about the sides, they cared about the support.

“There’s some pretty violent militias here in Angelwood. They’ve been known to kill whatever they can for supplies,” Konner said.

“They  _ were _ in Human uniforms, though,” Undyne pointed out.

Konner chanced a sideways glance at you. “Harris thinks that the Humans and one of the militias here made an agreement.”

“Okay, so let’s say it is this militia. How does that change anything?”

“They know the city. They’ll swarm you.” Preston looked at you. “That’s what you were thinking, isn’t it?”

You nodded uncomfortably.

Undyne took you and Preston then without another word and gestured over to a monster with large, billowing pink wings that resembled the fluffy look of cotton candy. “Hey, Lucentio!”

The monster turned nervously, revealing a fuzzy face with a large scar above his left eye. Smooth, ivory antlers protruded from the dirty blonde fur. He resembled a deer that had somehow acquired angel status.

“Yes, General Undyne?” he asked softly. He avoided eye contact, you noticed.

“I need you to take us up,” she demanded.

The monster looked scared. “There’s three of you,” he stammered, looking at all of you (though really, it was like he was looking at your feet to count how many of you were there). “I-I’ve never-- My wings aren’t big enough!”

Undyne sighed heavily. “Can you carry two?”

He bit his lip. “Maybe you and the girl, but I think you and the guy would be too much for me, my wings are still so small, they can’t manage that-- I don’t even know if I can manage the two of you, oh god.”

“I know you, Luce. You’re strong enough. I get that you’re anxious and all because of your family, but your soul is strong. Your magic is stronger. I need you.”

You didn’t know how much you trusted Undyne’s judgement. The wings were big, sure, but if the person flying had no confidence, then you weren’t exactly excited about being flown to a height that could result in death. You were eyeing him cautiously, gauging his stature.

“I don’t know, General. Why can’t I just carry you?”

“I don’t know what I’m looking for.”

“Their formation,” you said dryly.

Undyne turned to you, her eye boring into your skull. You stared back at her, unfaltering.

“Their formation and how clean they are.”

“Clean?”

“They’re homeless,” Konner stated. “As for their formation, it’d look weird. Shoddy. ‘Cos they’re not soldiers. They don’t know what they’re doin’ in that same sense. The fact that you saw ‘em points to ‘em not being Humans.”

Undyne nodded firmly, then gestured to Lucentio. Before he moved, she said, “I’ll look into it. You two get back to where you should be. I’ll take care of it.” His wings flapped, taking him a few feet above the ground, and Undyne gripped onto his ankle. With no other words, the two were up in the air, going higher and higher.

You marched among the other soldiers silently beside Konner. You hadn’t stopped walking while talking with Undyne, but there hadn’t been blatant stares then, as there were now. People who were questioning what exactly you were doing with their eyes, and you could see in your peripheral vision monsters and humans looking up where the general and Lucentio took off, then turning to you and Preston.

“Let’s go,” he said under his breath to you. Reluctantly, you turned back, staring at the blurbs in the sky. The caravan would take the gazes off of you at the very least. You’d told her what you predicted was truly going on. And now you could leave.

As you were walking, there were sudden shouts and a complete halt of all the soldiers. You bumped into a few of them, but they made no sound. All sound had gone out.

You had only gotten about twenty feet from where Undyne had been when it happened, and when you went to Konner in confusion, he looked just as bewildered as you. It seemed as though something up ahead had happened. You narrowed your eyes, trying to see, keeping your silence just as the others. Clearly, something was wrong. You heard more shouts, and then your head turned and saw. There was a building, not too far away, with people coming out. They were calling out.

It was exactly who you’d expected. They had heard. When you looked to see Undyne, she was still high in the air with Lucentio. She couldn’t help you right now.

You hesitated, considering your options. 

You now could see monster-esque figures being held in the arms of those coming from the building. And you understood. They’d nabbed the ones scouting a path somehow-- and they had sent the message to cease movement.

There was only one way out of this now, and you had no weapons. Yet you were right in the middle of a spot were you needed them. Words failed you. The people were so far away, far enough that you could barely see them at all. But their words and their power carried, and you understood that you were about to be in a battle.

A group of about fifteen monsters began to almost silently walk out of the line, out of where you presumed the magic granting a shield and invisibility was. They did this without words, brushing past you. You stared as they cocked their guns and took position beside a building.

And then you heard the gunshots. Among the absolute silence of those around you, the sound was strange and deafening. You weren’t used to  _ nothing _ after the sound of bullets. It seemed wrong.

The militia up ahead continued yelling, and you saw a cloud of dust.

Telltale sign of a monster fatality. You noticed soldiers were hiding themselves in buildings all over, guns at the ready.

And then you heard, all the way from her height above the buildings, Undyne scream, “ATTACK!”

It was smooth, graceful actions. The monsters ran forwards without a hitch, as if they were used to this sort of thing. You didn’t like the grace about you; it was something you generally only associated with those in your melee combat arena. Being surrounded like this with nothing to use yourself was unfriendly and cramped.

They ran past you and Konner, and you knew that it was too late to go back. You could only go forward, you could only fight. Fight without weapons, or fight with the ones you salvaged.

The militia’s mass was revealed at her words, and you saw them running out.

And the gunshots rang in your ears.

But you ran.

There was nothing else, now. You had to fight.

And you were going to.

 

Despite a vague sense that Konner had called for you, you knew that you were a soldier first. Besides, going back and being trampled in an attempt to find a caravan seemed foolish. You moved away from the mass of Monster soldiers swarming you to a building with people inside, shooting carefully. They didn’t notice you, or turn to you. Blinded by battle. By duty. By war.

There was a dead human man lying on the ground, apparently shot in the head. His gun had flown out of his arms, but the strap was still over him. As soon as you saw it, you knew it was no longer his. He had no use for it anymore, and you needed a weapon. There was an echo of your parents speaking of respect for the dead and a minimal piece of yourself that called to you to remember that this man had only been alive a few moments ago and most likely wouldn’t have wanted to be raided, but what was louder than that was the threat of being unarmed in a bloody battle and the call. The beating drums, the loud pops of bullets, the shouts, the guttural commands, the cries, the distinct crackle of bullets ricocheting off buildings and a magic barrier; these came together to create the call of war to you, and you had to answer it.

You looked out of the hole he’d been shooting from. You stepped over the dead body, carefully peering around and gathering what you could about where you were. There were people in a building a ways off, shooting your direction. You did what a soldier had to and you returned their fire. You looked through your scope and could just barely see the form of people, and you shot at them. A monster exploded into dust beside you, but you kept shooting. A ways off, one of the men you shot recoiled with a burst of blood. You took aim again.

There was a large blast of energy that caught you off your feet and threw you against the wall. You grunted, cracking your head against the wall painfully. You stood from the ground after a moment, coughing. There was a small bump of pain forming on the back of your skull, but you weren’t too bothered by it. A monster on the floor you were looked up palely and said, “They got through the protection.” It was all he said and it was all you needed to hear to understand that staying stationary was of no further benefit to you. It was time to catch up to the others and run. You knew already you’d been here for far too long. Battles seemed to move in a time separate from the norm, being both fast and slow, parted from the universe most of you knew.

The barrier created had been weaker than you thought. You could tell from your little slot of vision that already, the deaths of those in Angelwood far outnumbered those of Monsters, but you didn’t know how that might change. This wasn’t a good place for you. You couldn’t kill them like this. The dead man had a knife on his leg, and you took it. He was dead. He couldn’t be angry with you. You needed it more than he did. It was you, it was what you knew, it was cleaner and easier than any gun, and there was a sense of calm that hit you when you first took the hilt.

You ran out of the building and saw that the Monsters had already cleared quite the path through, shouting out. They were calling out to each other in the lingo that they had created and you were ignorant to it. It wasn’t yours. These weren’t your people. None of these people were like you.

You pumped your legs, moving along with them. Preston was lost to you. There were blasts from guns, both Human-made and Monster-made. You could see large spears flying through the air up ahead, crackling so loudly you could vaguely hear them not only through the call of war but from the distance you were. Of course, you knew who it was. Undyne. She was known for them by Humans. She was one of the monsters, one of the few, that was stronger using her magic in its raw form than channeling it with a gun. There were always stories about the sheer strength she demonstrated, and how no matter how many bullets seemed to hit her she kept moving (it was no different than most monsters, though, due to their magic, a single bullet wasn’t always fatal, even if it was to the head. Few had vital organs and a decent amount could be hit twice to the head without falling).

People were running. Dying.

And the world faded to a blur as you joined.

You shot at people. You weren’t close enough to use your skills as you wanted to, but you could shoot now. People were moving through. The faster pace surely meant you’d be out of this hell soon--

Someone fell beside you.

You ran.

More fell. Some to dust. Some allies. Some enemies.

All you could do was run.

The bullets rang. They were yours. They were the enemy’s. They were the ally’s.

You kept running.

And you saw a group of them that was overtaking a building.

You did was you did best.

And you ran inside, knife in hand.

 

You went through with a less focused mind than you were used to. People were already shooting back and forth inside, retreating up the stairs. The militia was making their way up, likely wanting the roof for the advantage it gave them. They didn’t notice you at first, but heads turned when your blade found its way through the back of the first man’s throat. It was a familiar sensation to you, but it never stopped to fascinate you in a sense; the blade went in smoothly, but was held together stiffly by the tissues and muscles under the skin. That man was your shield. You used him, running into another man and hitting his gun away. He shouted at you at first, calling to one of the four other men still standing, but you had already gone. You slashed through them. The first man you went to, you stabbed in his side. It was a better bet there since the Human armor focused greatly on the abdomen. He recoiled, and instantly you turned, grabbing the hair of a woman coming for you and pulling her head to your blade. It went in less smoothly than you wanted, but you were still efficient at your job. Continuing to work against the people inside, your adrenaline thrived. The blood of the Angelwood people fell on your body. Their skins opened with ease. It was odd to have them be shot and fall about you without your doing as Monsters fought their way back down-- three of them, to be exact.

And you all fought back. You were here, you were in your element, the only thing you could do-- and you stabbed. And screamed. And killed.

And pushed through.

You heard the screams.

You stepped out of the building, and started running again. They were dead. The Monster soldiers inside ran out as well, and they kept fighting. You hesitated just for a moment, ears ringing from the bullets and the screams.

This was all different than the plan back at Maven. This was all different from what it had been when you found with the Humans against those in the streets. You saw mercy when it was possible, and for some reason, you found your lip curling with each person that chose knocking someone out to taking care of the problem for good.

That moment was when you were grabbed. You shouted, and nearly stabbed Konner instinctually. He dragged you back, not allowing you to run. You wanted to keep fighting, but you recognized that this would be a lost cause. For a moment, you thought you could rejoin the fight after he got you back to the caravan, but you knew once you had been dragged back inside where you were never supposed to leave by Konner, you were not going to be allowed to leave. Felicity was furious, but the others were silent. There was a new monster inside, using his magic. You suspected he was one of the ones who cast protection, but there was no point to asking. Felicity was stressed anyways. “We can’t lose you now, ____!” she shouted. “This is more than it was before! Like it or not, you aren’t just a piece of meat anymore!  _ DAMMIT! _ ”

The guns and screams were too loud to be distracted by her. Her words weren’t unfamiliar. She hated it when you took risks and she heard about it. You knew it was because she felt responsible for you, but that didn’t matter, and sooner rather than later, she would need to grow past that.

The screams lasted a long time.

Even after you were out, even after the battle had ended and the Monsters won and carried on quickly without hesitation, you sensed the death radiating around you. It didn’t feel like a win. It was foreign and 

The battle had been too quick. Unfairly quick. The militia had given up, apparently not ready for such a drastic force.

You had wanted to join.

But this was not the time.

And they carried on with the screams left in the past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i tried to make the action fun!! i'd love comments and opinions and criticism down below if you have any, im always trying to improve <3 hope everyone has/had a great day and i'll be sure to keep working on the next chapter!!


	8. We're Here Now

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey what up heres a chapter enjoy

You made the caravan smell like blood.

You weren’t particularly fond of the smell, though time around the sticky ooze had worn you down. There was no real reason to recoil. People smelled blood all the time. The thick smell of rusty meat was only natural, and it was in the meat they ate. Human blood smelled hardly any different than the blood of other animals and it was utterly pointless to try to distinguish the two. Blood was blood.

This wasn’t even very much blood, really. You weren’t a very messy killer, after all. There was only some staining your hands and a small amount that had spurted its way onto your jacket and on your face. You’d had enough courtesy to wipe away the speckles on your face (without any prompting at all) and the splatters on your hands, but you didn’t see anything large enough or appropriate to wipe the rest of the gore away. You couldn’t exactly wipe your shirt off on your pants like you had with your hands.

It was easy to tell that Frisk and Toriel, despite their engagement in the war, hadn’t frequently been this close to battle. Surely, they’d been around it and within it before, but you saw no real reason they would be confronted upfront with the reality. Both were far too significant to be risked in a battle. Their home was the control panel back at home base, where it was safe. They were more bothered than the rest by your apparel and stains. The scent made them flinch; they were disgusted by the burgundy smears on your uniform. Blatantly, the knife and gun you’d left lying on the seat beside you incurred their judgement. They said nothing, but it was all too difficult to hide such disgust.

You found a way to ignore it and focus on something more easily digestible. Specifically, on the dull rattle of movement outside. It was the sound of marching without words and scarcely any sign of life. Each little crackle was almost deadly in its volume. People had lost their joviality and pep, and now adopted the silence they always should have had. This silence was all encompassing. It was their reminder. Here and now, you had no time for celebration. A distraction was a weakness.

They were unprepared. And because of that, they were hurt. It was common for those so vaguely connected to reality, and despite yourself, you thought down upon the soldiers surrounding you, noting them to be weak and foolish.

No one was ready for war until they were drowning in it. The strongest warriors were the ones who had been forced to fight. They were strong because they understood. There was more than justice and rights at stake. More than a country or common-folk to live with. More than homes. More than the people you loved.

You, when you first left the house, that  _ damned  _ house, and went to live in the barren landscape of skyscrapers not far away, were not at all ready for the war. You’d only just been awakened to it. No, you only understood it when your life was at stake for the first time and the only option to swim above the tides of the bullets was to push others under the waves. You learned quickly that peace was only as effective as its surroundings. It was an option if you were willing to die. And you hadn’t been. Not then. You had to save Abby. You had to avenge her. So you had to live and learn how to kill.

Survival meant survival. There was no space for living if you were too busy surviving. The most brutal gangs in the most brutal cities, like that of Angelwood, had no time for luxury or even family. That was what made them stronger. The people who never lived through it would never understand it. People never cared to see.

It was so easy to tell who was part of the war. They were the ones who knew the smell of blood. And you bemused yourself flatly in that the people meant to lead you didn’t breathe the same experiences that the people fighting for them did. Of course they didn’t.

The rustle outside grew quieter and the sky dimmed from blue to purple to black. You peered outside to try to deduce where you’d stopped, but there was nothing in particular to pinpoint an area. Part of you wanted to go outside to see better, but you figured that it was probably for the best that you stay put. The tension was already high and you didn’t particularly desire more animosity spewing from Felicity’s lips. There was a muted anger wafting off of her even now, hours after escape from Angelwood. You’d experienced it before, when she’d heard of other dangerous, impulsive decisions you’d made. Your answer to her fury was always the same; you were a soldier, and you were here to fight in the war.

Of course, then, you’d had so much more reason to follow orders. There was reason to rise in ranks quickly and efficiently. That was then, however, and you were still hesitantly realizing that you couldn’t truly fulfill what you’d promised you would to Abby. That ingrained feeling of loss and confusion was still hushed over your body. All meaning was left behind. You had no reason to be a soldier anymore. You supposed you were too far gone to be anything but now. You cared less about your ranking and thought, slowly, that you might as well put down your life in a battle now. There wasn’t much else to do.

Everything had stopped. The uncomfortable air still hung in the caravan, but now there was a way out, and most of the people took it. Toriel and Frisk left to see their people, and after a moment’s hesitation, Konner and the monster followed.

You stayed, making no motions. You were patient. She would say her piece when she found the right words in the right tone.

“Why didn’t you come back?” Felicity said lowly. It’d been hours since the last time she spoke, and so you weren’t too startled by the murmur as she slowly stood.

“I did,” you replied.

“Why didn’t you come back  _ immediately?” _

“I’ve told you a hundred times.”

“No. This was different.”

“No.”

“ _ Yes it was. _ You don’t know their people, how they  _ fight. _ You didn’t do it because it’s your duty, you did it because you could.”

You didn’t reply instantly. For a minute, you were actually somewhat appalled. You were sure it showed at least a bit on your face, because Felicity was evidently surprised. It was a little hard for you to process what she said for a moment. The implication of what she said sparked hot flares from your brain that drained into your blood, but at the same time, you were hurt. A sad twinge of pain flickered through your torso and a familiar, heated well began to build its way behind your eyes. As soon as you felt the threatening presence, though, you stiffened, allowing the much smaller part of you comparatively to win out, and you wrinkled your nose in disgust. Just as quick as the sadness had come for you, the anger filled in. Just below the surface, you began to boil, and you stood up as well. Your form and your irascibility loomed over the girl.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” she spat, her buggish eyes brimming with regret. “But you know what I mean. You did  _ not _ do it because you’re a soldier, and I’m so tired of that excuse. We have a new life here and now. You can’t just make these impulsive decisions. They’re going to bite you in the ass and we’re going to lose what we’ve got.”

“This isn’t what I signed up for,” you reminded her coarsely, allowing yourself to wallow further in rage. “I would have stayed there.”

She shook her head. “You didn’t need to come. You didn’t need to join.”

“It was you or them, and I chose you,” you snapped.

Felicity’s face contorted and she adopted a look of bitter grief, and for a moment, you found icy chills seemingly water-like find winding pathways down your spine. Her face in her hand, a deep and exhausted sigh sank from the girl. Silently, she took her hair down, shaking the wild curls out from their tight forms. A yellow cloud puffed out from her head and shielded her face.

“Listen. You just can’t be stupid, okay? I’m all you’ve got, and you’re all I’ve got. We’re here now. We’re here together. You and me, we’re always gonna stick together, like glue. I know you’d follow me to the end, and damn man, I’d do the same for you. But you can’t be stupid. You can’t just  _ do. _ You’re like my family, you get me?” As she spoke, her twinkling voice was enveloped and overcome by a less familiar but more real one. It was the one she spoke with when she was upset or serious. A gravelly murmur with hints of an accent that you couldn’t quite pick apart. You didn’t wholly know if it was her real voice, but you did know that it only came out when she felt defeated or lamentful.

The anger inside of you insisted that you continue, but her words struck too deeply, and the tension you held released in a breeze. You looked down at her, fondly, and you saw the little girl you loved so much, so much that your heart swelled to your ribs and wedged itself in between, so much that you had spent every night of every day for three years aching to tell her such and remind her how sorry you were. Abby’s gap-toothed grin barbing you as her gray eyes filled with tears. And then it cracked away and you saw a different person with a different life and a different face miserably peering up to you. Your heart pitted itself harder against the cage it was held in, and you inhaled cautiously, tenderly placing a hand on the fairy’s shoulder. “Yeah,” you said, and that was enough for her to know what you meant.

She mimicked your gesture and a wry grin ghosted on her cheeks for a precious few seconds before she turned away from you and walked to the exit of the caravan. “We’ll be okay,” she whispered, so quietly that you were hardly sure she had said it, and then she left you alone, next to a gun and a knife that weren’t yours.

Her words faded as soon as she was gone. Of course, she thought that. It was because it was what she wanted. Neither of you were going to be okay. It was a nice enough dream, but there was no undoing what the two of you had been through. Longing for something just so unattainable would only make it all worse.

All worse.

You were still calculating what exactly you would do. More and more, deserting seemed like the most appealing option to you. It wouldn’t be extremely difficult, seeing as the Monsters were so unattentive to the world around them. If you kept your cool, as you always did, you would be able to simply amble away from them and never be seen again. The streets were familiar to you, and it wouldn’t take too long to adapt to them again. Maybe you’d also be able to find a way back to the Humans and make your way up again. Of course, you’d have to change your appearance and probably mutilate your face some, but it had potential. The thought of cutting your hair short make you (stupidly) feel nauseous, but you knew it was stupid to keep such little things only for the sake of a little dead girl who couldn’t see you anymore anyways. You’d find a way to get past the small and pitifully foolish aspects that still bogged you down if you chose to go down that route.

It was Felicity that put new shackles on your feet. You closed your eyes and sighed heavily, rubbing your forehead. She wouldn’t forgive you. And how was it fair for you to leave her now, when she told you that you were all she had? This was the danger in allowing yourself to love. You were bound to them. To hurt them was only to hurt yourself and incur their spite. There was only so many times you could fail to protect someone, only so many times you could break promises. At some point, you begin to crack. The pieces of your lies become shards that can only make it worse.

Felicity.

Abby.

 

Abby.

But god fucking dammit, your tendons were being yanked towards what you knew you had to do, that you  _ had _ to kill him. It didn’t matter who it was for. All that mattered was that it would be you, and he would be gone. It would free you. It would put her at peace. And then you could join them again. The latter part of that all was just wishful thinking, really. You felt a flatness when you thought of a beyond now, and you sensed deep down that for all of your cruelty, selfishness, lies, and putridness, that nothing favorable was destined for you. You were a bad, selfish, evil person, and that was okay. It was Richard’s fault.

It was only duty that you should aim for his death. You’d sworn it to your sister, and you could never give up. Nothing was more important than her.

You would wait, plot, and find a new way.

No one should have expected anything more, especially yourself. Irrational and irate, constantly shifting by the tides of a sweltering sea until you would inevitably sink beneath the crashing bounds of water. You would drown in it, or you would struggle with only your lips above water, choking out as salt filled your nose and burned your tongue. Maybe one day you would find a raft, but it was always the same game. You were born to be washed away. And you were also born to take the unworthy down below with you.

_ Egotistical, maybe. But you wouldn’t give up. You wouldn’t give up until he was taken care of. You had to do this. It was only right. Only fair. It would only help her. _

_ Well. Would have helped her. _

 

Part of you despairingly tried to remind yourself that it was only a dream now. You were just as foolish as the others who tried to chase the fictional, who put energy into fruitless ideas. It would take away from your strength if you became too confident or if you became as delusional as them. And you couldn’t afford that. But why couldn’t you afford that, again?

You knew why. How could you compare your dream to Felicity’s? They were so far apart from each other that it was hardly fair to even try. Hers was wishful thinking, an impossibility no matter the outcomes. Yours was close, just out of your reach. It was only stalled by your ineptness. Soon, you could clasp it again. You’d failed, but just for a bit. You could do it; one day you wouldn’t fail. It was right there, gleaming before you, only shifted a bit. You always found a way.

You could rise above the tides and find the resolution you needed to finish what he had started.

Still, for the moment, you had failed her. Abby may have been pleased with your action to assist the Monsters, but her death remained unavenged. How many times could you repeatedly let down the girl who you were supposed to love more than all else? You murmured out an apology to her, gazing upwards just slightly as if she were hovering a few mere feet away. Scoffing, you shook your head and looked down, reminding yourself that she was gone. This was for her memory, not for  _ her. _ Only you knew the pain she had felt that night now. It was your duty to make sure that  _ he _ would feel it just the same, and that the constant ache would finally be put to rest.

It was with that thought that you sighed heavily and stuck your hand into your pocket, seeking the comfort of your sister. Perhaps it was folly, but you wanted to look into her eyes and reassure yourself that you were following the right path. The one she deserved for all her woes.

Your heart violently constricted the instant your fingers brushed across nothing but leather and old bits of string. It was instant. Your right hand shot into the other pocket, only to feel the same sickening nothingness. A little scream hoarsely tumbled from your lips as you hurriedly checked all your other pockets, dread seeping deeper and deeper into your bloodied skin.

“Fuck,” you rasped. “Fuck, fuck. Fuck.”

The world began to spin. It was warping around you, your head teetering from the whiplash. Every breath felt like a choked gasp. Your hands were dead and clammy and harsh brushes of ice spiked through your veins. Moving felt impossible. You were stony and flat and you wanted to scream but all the air in your lungs had been crushed out.

Your head shot about the caravan, pleading in desperation for it not to be true. You couldn’t have lost it. You couldn’t have. You would never, ever be so careless with something so irreplaceable, you couldn’t even if you tried, right? There was no way you could have lost it, there was no way you wouldn’t have seen it fall from your pocket while running, no way, no way. You couldn’t forget her. What if you forgot her face? What if she started to fade? You’d already lost so much of her voice. There were only snippets of it vaguely lingering within your mind because you had no phone with videos to remember her by, no voicemails, no recordings of any kind. What if she faded away? You couldn’t let her fade away. You couldn’t forget her. You needed her so much. You couldn’t lose her like this. You’d already lost her, already failed her, already ruined it all.

Tears threatened to spill, and you forced yourself to walk around the caravan stiffly, scanning for the picture intensely.

And then you turned back to where you had been sitting, and let out a strangled gag of relief, hugging the photo to your chest roughly. You were careful to an extent, making absolutely sure that you didn’t crumple the image and possibly taint the pristine image of her face (you were so grateful that you’d wiped your hands of the blood they had earlier). The rapid pulse of your heart made you dizzy and the sweat trickling down the nape of your neck sent intermittent chills through you. It was blurry and your mind was fogged, but you had it. You had it still. Still had that little piece of her.

It must have fallen out when you stood earlier. Clearly, the pocket that had been its home for so long was no longer a viable place for such a treasure. You undid the clasp to the pocket above your left breast and firmly put the image inside, ensuring that it was closed properly afterwards so that you wouldn’t be put through such an unnecessary frenzy ever again.

After the surge of adrenaline drained, you collapsed to your knees, a little shard of pain stabbing into your leg. You’d forgotten that you’d even hurt it before by pulling the muscle. It had been so easy to ignore before, when you were able to keep the stone wall between your exterior and interior. You took in slow, deep breaths, holding your head and counting slowly. You had to rebuild that wall before you showed the others how fragmented and weak you were. The moment had passed and nothing had happened to Abby. It was okay. It was okay. You had her. You hadn’t lost her yet.

Of course you’d already lost her, what were you talking about? This was only a fragment of the past. This was only here so you wouldn’t forget. _ Don’t fail because you can’t focus on your mission. We can’t afford to lose any more than we have already. _

Life was for the living. You wanted to run away, but there was no place to hide. Water was transparent, and you could only keep your head above the deep for just long enough. Distractions. Your mind was drenched by them. You needed something to clear it, to see the fog taper away into the air.

You opened the flap of the caravan and peered to the outside camp already set up. People were glancing your way with a fake impassiveness, idly watching your every move. The sky had blended into a murky plum with faded specs of faltering stars. There was the thick smell of fire from the stacks of burning wood dispersed around the area. Everyone was moving, still tense, but much less so than Angelwood. A few faces engaged in flat conversations were familiar to you. You saw the woman Laurel tending to a man with a bloodied leg, her hair tied tightly by the red scarf. Nearby, the tall skeleton, Papyrus, was speaking with a few different soldiers of a higher rank. Inwardly, you chided yourself for not knowing their respective titles, but you didn’t care too much. This was only another distraction.

Maintain. Push through. Solve the problem.

With that ideology burning inside you, you took note that there weren’t too many of Monster soldiers around you. It was nothing compared to what they had seemed like. Really, this was just a small legion here for a child. They needed few. It was good for you. Surely, finding the man with the cigarettes would be simple enough. You were sharp, and he stood out like a sore thumb against the rest. After all, you’d already spotted one skeleton in seconds.

You stepped outside with your steeliness and went hunting for the boney comic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> school has me sister STRESSED but i love writing this story so everything is okay *insert okay sign here* and i hope yall enjoyed it!!! trying to make things better and longer! super fun to write this <3 thank u for reading


	9. Rain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this is a little late! had some writer's block and it killed me for most of the month haha!

You were walking around entirely blind. People were talking and the dull murmurs meant you couldn’t catch the words they expelled. Who knew what kinds of things they were saying, what they were sneering about you, what they were guessing about you. it could be anything. It was anything.

But you didn’t have time to dwell on that, you reminded yourself fervently. The most important topic at hand was that skeleton. The anxiety clung onto your skin damply, though not as bad as before. You didn’t even really need the smoke anymore, but you refused to give up after you started. It was about the principle at this point.

This skeleton, Sans, was a lot harder to find than you cared to admit. You were entirely opposed to asking for a pointer to him (How many questions would that raise? Too many, far too many), and the only other person you knew was acquainted with him was nowhere to be found. Elaina was most likely preoccupied with other soldiers. She’d been helping give out food before, so it wasn’t out of the question to guess she was doing it again. What was she, a corporal? Surely there was much to do around the camp right now, even if she didn’t have food duties.

You wondered if it would be racist to deduce Sans’s location from the easier-to-spot Papyrus. You hadn’t  _ seen _ any other skeletons besides the two, but they were fairly different in appearance, so assuming they were related was probably in poor taste. You were running low on options, however, and you were starting to feel that familiar burn of determination gnaw at you. You were forced to remind yourself that if you wanted to go back to Papyrus, you’d be forced to turn around and look like an idiot. You were entirely opposed to that, so you scratched that option out.

People were already staring. They were questioning you, questioning just what the bloody Human traitor was doing, wandering aimlessly about their camp only partially dressed in their uniform. They suspected you to be false. They were staring into your soul. Couldn’t monsters do that-- see into your soul? See what you were made of? You’d heard that everyone there was forced to have their soul engraved into their dog tags, human and monster alike. Humans, though, they couldn’t see souls without monsters, so you had to wonder just how they did that. You’d never seen your soul. Before the war started, there were some monsters that would show you your soul for some money, but you had no interest in it. You couldn’t keep track of what colors mean what thing and were fairly confident that you knew exactly who you were. The thought, however, of some stranger seeing into your deepest traits, made you incredibly uncomfortable.

You remained firm. If they could, you had to make your strength all the more impenetrable. There was nothing else to do. They would know your strength.

You gazed loosely about the camp, and your heart clenched as you saw it. A brief flash of an ivory head shuffled through a huddled group of rabbit monsters about a flame.

You marched his way, keen to keep him in your sights. You only just found the bastard, and you had no idea when the dick would decide to blip away. Closer and closer. He was slow and you were not. The gap shrank.

He was wandering off and you were confident that it was him. He was short with broad shoulders and a lazy swagger. Even if there were more than two skeletons, there was no way they was another one as distinctly small and slouchy as Sans. You wondered suddenly if he knew you were on his trail. He walked towards the trees nearby. Isolated. It occurred to you that it looked pretty terrible to angrily stalk after a monster when you were not established yet as trustworthy. But you had already started walking. Oh god, what the shit were you supposed to say to him? Well.

You changed course slightly, instead aiming for the woods. There were humans here and there speckled across the trees, using the cover to relieve themselves without embarrassment. It was  typical. You saw it everywhere since the war. If you mimicked the way they acted, you could track him without suspicion.

You suddenly had the terrible idea he might be one of those people walking to relieve themselves and that you might be unfortunate enough to catch him. You had to remind yourself that he was a fucking skeleton and clearly he wasn’t going off for a piss. The chronic need for you to make yourself anxious was ridiculous. You needed to chill.

It made you uncomfortable to know that you’d need to start a conversation with him. You had a strong feeling he wouldn’t just know you wanted a smoke and let you off the hook with no further dialogue. No, based off the small interaction you’d already had, this one would be a tedious kind of guy to work with.

The trees folded over Sans and he was gone. You did the same, letting the trees hide you. As soon as you were covered, you made a beeline through the trees to where you’d seen Sans walking. It didn’t feel too strange to do it. It was just for a smoke, after all. And if people wondered, then they could wonder. It was stupid for you to care about it. Just a little fragment of anxiety from your former life that hadn’t been picked out of you yet. All you wanted was that smoke. That you could get it.

Branches softly brushed against your skin, twigs and leaves passing your cheeks with a warm tenderness. The talk of the soldiers was muffled out, and you allowed yourself to bask in the crisp smell of forest leaves. You hated cities, suburbs. They were nothing now, only battlegrounds. Danger. Rubble. Bad memories. But places like this, where the trees were thick and the light was next to none-- no one wanted to fight their battles there. Why would they?

You wanted to stay here. Lie down, look up at the stars you loved your whole life, let the brush grow over you and let the roots bind you to the dirt floor. It was simple. Pretty. Quiet.

A person was walking behind you. You could hear their plodding footsteps crunching, but you didn’t look behind you. You, quite frankly, didn’t care. You suspected you knew who it was already. 

His voice rumbled behind you. “what’s up, stalker? look pretty anxious.”

You faced him and ignored you pumping anxiety. “I want to smoke.”

“oh, really? what, your addiction that bad? you’re going to have a hard time here if you can’t go more than a day without smoking.” Sans had his hands shoved deeply into his pockets. He was rocking back and forth on his heels, looking smug and amused.

You pursed your lips slightly. “It’s not a habit.”

He rolled those white pupils and took out a pack, shaking a single cigarette out. “yeah. that’s what they all say. whatever.” He handed the little stick to you, but as you grabbed it, his grip tightened on it. “remember, i don’t do this for free,” he smirked.

You felt irked. This asshole was just the pits. Smug and a total jerk. Clearly, he enjoyed the sense of having control. It gave him some sort of sick satisfaction. You thought,  _ I hate you. _

You grumbled, “Okay.” Waiting for him to make the next move, you remained stony. The cigarette was firmly in your fingers.

His expression was just as permanent as yours, apparently. He was unfazed by your silence, the smirk and delight hanging on his face strongly. “see, i haven’t thought of a really good one for you yet. maybe this’ll change, but i think for now,” he mused, scratching his chin, “an acceptable price is something about yourself.”

You blinked at him. “Uh.” There was no acceptable reply to that. You already were bad enough at everything regarding socialization. But that prickbag wasn’t aware of that, and he raised his brows judgmentally.

“what, you need me to prompt you? yeesh, okay. let’s see… where were you born?”

_ Is this guy for real? _

You told him flatly, and his grip mercifully loosened, allowing you to snatch the cigarette as your own. He gave you the lighter without any further qualms. “cool. thanks. be seeing you, harris. i’ll figure something more interesting for next time, alright?” He winked.

There was no reply to give him. You already felt weird and uncomfortable. You brought the cigarette to your lips and walked off into the trees, embracing the taste of tobacco in your mouth. There was a little sound, and when you glanced over your shoulder, the skeleton was gone.

_ Dick. _

You wandered fairly aimlessly, basking in your solitude. Gray vines slipped past your lips and faded in the expanse of the trees you strode through. Even though you may not have truly needed it, you did have to admit to yourself that it was a nice little help. Abby, of course, hated smoking. Hated the smell. Hated the look. Hated the consequences. You’d never been a fan yourself, back then. A few friends here and there enjoyed it, but it wasn’t your thing. You had no reason to and every reason not to.

She’d be so upset if she saw you now, smoking when the thought of her was too much. It made you feel a little guilty, but it wasn’t like it mattered. She physically couldn’t be mad at you. That was the way it was.

And now you had reason to do it, anyways.

The little spirals that curled out from your mouth were beautiful, artwork. They faded against a natural background full of brown and yellow and green and never once took away from it. It was nice. And new.

Behind some clouds, faint twinkling of early stars. The moon was hiding, hardly peeking out from the clouds expanding over it..

You leaned against a tree and closed your eyes. You felt so exhausted. It was nice to be alone. It soothed you. The picture was still safe in your breast pocket, safe and sound. You looked at it, and a little fuzz of warmth coddled against you. Always the same, but so reassuring. Now that you were alone and had time to calm yourself, the picture felt better. There would always be that sting when you saw her face that made you flinch, but it didn’t need to be that way. Right now, you just heard her laugh. It was nice. You knew a little smoke would make it all better. Always did.

You stopped yourself before a smile broke over your face. You had to. Each time you had her like this, you held yourself back. Just because you were alone, didn’t mean you could let all your hard work break down.

It took time to build up walls. They climbed up slowly, brick by brick. Each had to be placed nicely beside and on top of each other and needed time to glue themselves together. If a wall was truly built to be strong, then more layers would need to be incorporated. Perhaps the structure required change, if you were too far gone in the process. It was slow. Sometimes it would be painful. And all that hard work could be completely undone if the foundation crumbled or if a strong enough ball and chain crashed into it. 

That was why you never broke.

You breathed in your surroundings until your cigarette had burned to a small nub, and then took it upon yourself to return the the camp. The picture was tucked safely back in your breast pocket.

It was dark now. You had a feeling Felicity was going to be displeased with your disappearance, but you could talk her out of it. More like mumble her out of it, but no matter. She would be forgiving.

The campfires lit up the grounds; there was an orange glow shimmering on faces, skin and fur alike. You walked through them, doing your best to remember the path you took so you could find your way to Maycombe.

You didn’t need to. “____!” Felicity called. She ran up to you and snatched your sleeve. “I was looking everywhere for you, you loser,” she laughed. You were surprised at how amiable she was. “You didn’t leave because you were mad, did you?”

Ah. She felt bad.

“No,” you said. “Just wanted to look around.”

“Oh good,” she sighed. “Listen, you’re hungry, right? They already ate a while ago, but I saved you some food. It’s this weird soup stuff. It’s okay, but it does not look like how it tastes. Trust me. You shoulda been there so you could’ve seen Konnor-- he choked and he  _ cried. _ And then I cried. Because I was laughing at him.” She was perky and had adopted her mom strength.

Felicity had never been a mother, but you wouldn’t know that necessarily from the way she acted. She usually just had the personality, but here and there, she also got the aura of one. She could drag you all the way down the land against the Nile river with one hand when she got her mom strength. You had no idea why she got it in random spurts, because unlike with moms, it didn’t happen during moments of danger. It just did, and she would drag you by the wrist wherever she wanted ferociously.

“You might’ve even laughed.”

“Unlikely,” you replied, pulled out of your brief train of thought.

“I’ve seen you almost laugh before, I’m sure it could’ve,” Felicity insisted.

“I doubt it.”

Felicity huffed, rolling her eyes. “It would’ve amused you, at the least. You would look less grouchy, at least. You know,” she said, her voice trailing off into what was about to be a long ramble, “you’ve got the worst case of resting bitch face I’ve ever seen. It’s like it was carved that way. It’s completely stuck. I’m like the opposite. I always look friendly, don’t I? Don’t answer. Enough people have told me. I already know. They say I look cute and approachable. I think a lot of it has to do with how small I am, but I don’t know, because if  _ you _ were my size, I’m sure they’d still think you were all sulky and unfriendly. Not to say you’re sulky and unfriendly. You just look that way. I know you, you’re  _ fine, _ you’re my closest friend, and I love you, but you look so angry. And sulky. I wish I could be that way sometimes…”

Her voice was trailing away again. You let yourself wander in your thoughts. Again, anxiety, anxiety at what you were supposed to do now. But you couldn’t focus on that. There wasn’t anything to do. You just had to remind yourself. So you thought about something else.

The way the tears of the sky burst on your cheeks, for example. The rain started sparse, but quickly amplified. Big drops were crashing down. People were moving for shelter, whether under tents or trucks, trees or magic. Most of the fires burned on, as if unaffected by the rain-- you’d heard the magic fire of certain monsters was impervious to rain.

“I hate the rain,” Felicity grouched. “It’s so cold and miserable.”

“I like it,” you said softly.

She stopped pulling you, looking back at you for a second. You regretted talking; she hadn’t needed to know that.

Her wide, gray eyes softened and closed slightly, at first, you thought, in some strange kind of pity. The massive scar on her face seemed to fade away as her lips spread into a smile. She looked up, rain cascading down her cheeks and pushing her bangs flat to her face. Felicity sighed gently, then returned her gaze to you.

“Well, I guess it really isn’t that bad, huh?”

Without another word, she pulled you onwards, and you had to remind yourself that you’d spent too long building your wall to let it crash to rubble now.

She said the rain was cold, but you felt so warm.


	10. Scarring

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> man school is kicking my ass BUT HERE YOU GO GUYS please enjoy I tried my best

The base-- Home Base-- was absolutely huge. You’d thought Maven was a decent size, but it was no main base of operations as this was. Maven was meant for the strongest fighters, the best soldiers. This was meant for more than just soldiers. Everyone was here.

You saw scientists, medics, and even television announcers and personalities amongst the soldiers. They were all together, all mutually incorporated.

On both sides of the war, there was news footage. Back with the Humans, you’d had to watch it often. They mainly only discussed great successes and the way certain battles were going. There was never anything revealing. You knew it was the same for the Monsters by some of the traitors at Maven commenting on it. However, you never saw it, because just like the Humans, the Monsters had their network secret and on a network unaccessible anywhere outside of their territory. It was mainly unimportant to you, because you had no reason to show interest in any news outside of the potential of hearing about  _ him, _ but you did recognize the spokespeople because of the emphasis Humans made on it. The most popular person was a former television celebrity and a huge icon for monsters in modern culture; Mettaton.

He had been among the ones who had insisted on first greeting Ambassador Frisk and Queen Toriel. Of course, he’d also started to shove his nose up the asses of Felicity, Konner, and yourself, much to your chagrin. You were spared from his obnoxiously deafening personality by the king, ecstatic to greet his wife and child.

King Asgore was utterly massive. The biggest person you’d seen your entire life, only beaten by the spider monster who was as tall as a building. You figured he must have been about eight feet tall with shoulders at least two and a half feet wide. His horns climbed high to the sky, the looming presence of his gold armor and gleaming crown only aiding in his sheer massiveness.

You didn’t like it. He was a kind man and seemed very pleasant, but you just couldn’t move past the looming threat he posed. Maybe he would be able to tell you had little care for the cause he was sending soldiers to die for. Maybe he suspected you as a danger. It was awful, but you couldn’t stop the thoughts. Your discomfort was only restrained by the reminder that you couldn’t be like  _ him. _ You couldn’t think the way he might.

You had no choice but to deal with his presence, anyways. He had insisted on leading the three of you “newcomers” (his words, not yours) about the new base before you. People stared. Some of them cheered at you. You kept your head down, following the King’s footsteps. He led you past the extensive barracks, differentiating the men’s side from the women’s.

There was a mass of building that appeared to be crumbling, but as you grew nearer, you realized that they were in fact just built to appear decrepit. There was a massive rectangle (or maybe it was a square, it was quite frankly too huge for you to be able to easily tell) that was beneath the building facade. The king explained that about a quarter of the building was for food and an eating area and that the other three quarters were meant for training and storage. You were baffled by the sheer hugeness of it. What Maven had been in its entirety was only slightly smaller than this one area.

The king gestured far off. “Do you see that large clump of building with blue graffiti?” he asked. You tuned in to the conversation finally, staring off at what the king described. The buildings were absolutely coated in giant blue symbols. You didn’t recognize the text very well, but you assumed it was some sort of monster propaganda.

“That’s our lab. There we make guns for our monsters, humans, our explosives, some other things as well. Medicines, raw magic, you know. It’s very extensive.”

Your blood ran cold as you continued to stare at the building. Of course you got stuck by a giant fucking science pit. Why wouldn’t you? What a lovely thing to look at every day and be reminded of shit you never wanted to think of again. It made you angry. You hated the thought of it. The principle. The blue symbols gave off a raw energy of hatred now. You crossed your arms tighter, gritting your teeth.

“You make your guns?”

Asgore looked down at Felicity and bent on one knee to reach eye-level with the three of you. “Yes, for monsters, primarily. You see, we make our guns compatible with our magic. Some of us, such as myself and General Undyne, who I know you’ve met, use our magic in its raw form because we are more powerful. Most monsters, however, need a way to increase their raw power into a single, better controlled stream. They connect their guns to an easy port of magic, commonly, their souls, and they become much more powerful. It’s why blasts from Monster guns are severe.”

Felicity seemed a little tense, but she smiled and nodded nonetheless. “What makes you and General Undyne so much more powerful?”

“Understand it isn’t just us, but we are simply more honed to our skills and more in-tune with our souls. It’s very important for monsters. Some are powerful, as powerful as us, and still use guns because they feel they could hurt themselves by using too much magic.”

“Why not use magic and the magic guns together?”

King Asgore shook his head ferociously, standing again. He looked off into the distance, eyes glassy. “No, we’ve found that’s very dangerous. You see, the magic for guns is automatically funnelled to them while connected. To try to externalize it at the same moment puts immense strain upon the soul, and causes it to crack, even shatter. Since our physical beings are tied to the existence of our souls, such a thing would kill us. Little magic may be alright, but anything as strong as you’re thinking would be deadly. No, it is better to just choose one.”

“How do they detach the guns?” Konner asked quietly, staring at the building. “Can humans use them as well? Have you tried?”

“Why, it’s no different than unplugging a cord from an outlet. You simply take it off. And as for humans, yes, we have tried it. It… is incredibly painful for your kind. Some magic  _ can _ rest in human souls, but not nearly enough. There is little power in the gun and overwhelming agony. It was not worth it.”

There was a tense silence. You were enjoying it, looking the opposite direction of all the others. The decimated cityscape hiding this massive base made you chilled. You knew there were powerful magics hung over the place you were that shielded you from view, but this place would have been nearly invisible even without them. Humans kept their doings out in the open. They had no fear.

And maybe you respected that. Maybe you respected that they had a strength and a commitment that the Monsters just utterly lacked. And maybe you knew you were acting in a disgusting manner. That you were thinking things that she’d find repulsive.

But you disliked cowardice.

You kept your arms crossed tightly.

“Let’s keep going,” Konner coughed, apparently embarrassed.

You couldn’t really be interested in the rest of the base. The king was friendly and talkative and grateful, but you were already off in your own world. When you looked off to the distance, you could see the border of the city the base was settled in and regrowing wildlife. There was flat ground for a bit, and then the scene changed to trees and a forest. You were fascinated by it. You’d never seen a cityscape so close to a forest before. It was incredible, and it made you question how it even happened.

To be fair, you’d never been to this area before. It was an entirely new state with new people. Perhaps it had always been like this. But as you gazed at the hills rolling with trees, you suspected monsters and their magic may have had something to do with it. You had no idea why they’d do it, since it seemed to point out their position by its sheer queerness. Still, it made you feel comfortable. There was a strange nostalgia to it that you couldn’t place in your mind.

One tree stood lonesome on a hill, leaves orange and yellow and bark a bare gray.

Wind bristled past you and blew your hair in your face.

You closed your eyes and sighed quietly, then turned away and kept following the king.

More and more people were staring at you. It was starting to grow into irrelevance. At some point, you supposed you would need to accept it. The only ways to avoid this new infamy would be death, desertion, or disappearance, all options not particularly compelling to you, especially with Felicity thrown into the mix.

You shoved your hands into your pockets, woeful at the lack of your lighter there. You were confident your picture was safe in your breast pocket, and began to relax a bit.

That is, until you saw the giant crowd and realized you were standing beside the king with the other two traitors on some sort of podium.

Your main concern was how distracted you’d been; if you didn’t realize where you were at all until the last moment, that didn’t exactly bear well. The next was clearly the massive pressure of the crowd.

Your breathing went funny and the liveliness and casual warmth in your face drained to an icy chill. Felicity was looking at you through the corner of her eye, and you felt yourself stiffen and harden your gaze. You were not to look weak. The scowl that naturally rested on your face scrambled back to your cheeks.

“These heroes,” the king’s voiced boomed, “have brought us all a new hope!”

There was a screaming cheer back.

“More good news,” Asgore continued, “we have more troops who have turned to us! Some of our heroic soldiers have come along at the same time. Their positions were compromised, so they came here!” He gestured to the other side, and you saw a startling small number of people come to the stage. There was only about twenty there, mainly men, although there was a few women as well.

An oddly familiar man was leading the stage. His frame was built to be slight, but he had put on enough muscle to fit the status of a soldier. His eyes were so bright for a moment, as he looked upon the three of you, and then you saw them sink instantly.

It hit you automatically who he was. This was Joseph’s husband. Finnick Thompson, the man Jo always referred to as “Finn.”

And he thought he’d see his husband there.

Only to be met with the stark reality that his husband had not come with. That he hadn’t made it out.

You had to look away before the guilt destroyed you. But now new thoughts had already began to swarm in your head. Thoughts about how you were not supposed to be standing here. Thoughts about how you were the replacement, the backup.

Jesus christ, maybe you should have just stayed behind anyways. It seemed like there was another hole you’d been dug into every few seconds.

You stared off into space, highly on edge. You were feeling antsy and were letting your mind wander the best it could. Smoke glazed your thoughts and feelings. It was only about her, and now you had wandered away due to a false image of her.

The king’s speech was long, and you were tired by the end of it. He offered to lead the new people to the cafeteria, so you were still following his lead when Laurel grabbed you.

“Hey there, Harris,” she said with a grin.

You acknowledged her with a small nod. 

“I want to check out your wound,” she stated. “Your Majesty, may I pull her aside?”

“Yes, feel free, Laurel. Do make sure she’s not away for too long so she still gets food.”

Felicity looked at you, gauging how okay you were with being off by yourself. She seemed to think you’d be okay, and offered you a little wave as Laurel led you away from the king.

“You seemed really uncomfortable on that stage,” she said offhandedly.

“Hm.”

“What’d you think about what he said?”

You shrugged, stuffing your hands in your pockets.

She moved away from the small talk. “So, how’s your cheek been feeling? Any better, any worse? Burning, soreness?”

“It’s fine,” you told her. In all honesty, you’d forgotten about your injury until she brought it up. The heaviness of the gauze on your cheek was adapted to quickly.

She poked your cheek hard, which surprised you slightly, and you blinked.

“No pain?”

“No,” you replied, deeply questioning her methods. Jabbing your hand into a wound seemed like a poor idea in every situation you could imagine, even if the person said they were feeling fine. You were mildly annoyed.

“You don’t have to act tough. You sure?”

“Yes.”

Laurel pulled you aside to a small building and unlocked the door. “This is our little clinic. We don’t really use it, but I wanted to avoid the big one because there’s probably going to be lots of people. That’s pretty tedious. Hope you don’t mind.”

“I don’t.”

“Great,” she said. “Come on in.”

You stepped in and looked around the room. It was decently small, but it wasn’t as little as the tent you first met Laurel in. You could tell it was mainly being used for storage by the boxes organized on top of each other. You could see vials and vials and vials of liquids and powders with names you didn’t recognize and rows of jars with some sort of strange magic. Some of the magic was liquid, some powder that sparked, and some sort of pure energy flowing about their spaces. You thought fondly for a moment about how fascinated your sister would have been by it, then deflated and felt the familiar twinge in your heart.

She sat you down and peeled away the bandage, smiling a bit to herself. “Good news is that you’re alright. Looks completely healed to me. You have a scar, though, as forewarning.” Laurel gestured across her cheek to show you how long it was. From how she drew it, the scar would have started one inch-ish away from your mouth and traveled upwards, stopping at your cheekbone. “Do you want a mirror to see it?”

You shrugged, and so Laurel got up and picked up some sort of square, clean handheld mirror.

You looked into it at yourself and hid your surprise. The scar was very long--just a tad bit longer than she had pointed out to you. It was a mix of pink and red and stood out against your skin in stark contrast. It was slightly jagged as it inched up your cheek. You thought carefully about how your head must have been for it to hit you the way it did. Apparently your head had been upturned slightly, judging the angle.

If you were to put your hair just right, it would hide the scar, but you felt no need. This was you. It was an ugly, stretching scar and it fit the changes you had gone through over the past three years. It looked more like you than any other photo you’d seen your entire life. This scar represented everything you’d ever been. It was just as nasty as who you were on the inside. There was already little hiding the nastiness on your face, but you could still see some attractiveness there if you looked hard enough. Not that you were a model then, but you didn’t think you were that bad. Now, though, there was this distinct scar on your cheek, and it took all of your attention immediately. It was twin to the scowl you drew on yourself. You couldn’t help but feel consoled by the new attribute. You didn’t have to hide as your old self anymore. No, you weren’t ____ anymore, and you hadn’t been for a long time. Now, now you could truly commit yourself to who you had become. You were Harris. ____ Harris, if someone felt they needed to be formal. But there was no more ____. You were a soldier. Harris. This girl looking at you in the mirror had a face to match her name, and so she was finally completely formed.

“What do you think?” Laurel asked. “Gnarly, huh?”

“Sure,” you replied, allowing the mirror to fall to your lap as you looked at her.

“Well,” she said after waiting a moment, “why don’t we go get you some food? I’ll show you the best stuff.”

You left, feeling more whole than you had in a long, long time.


	11. A Soul

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aaa not my best work but!!!! i got hit by terrible writer's block this month oof next month should be better sorry guys :( hope you enjoy anyways!

They’d only allowed you to share a bunk with Felicity after nearly a month of her pleading and your unchangeable stoicity. You were farther than the other women you were told to train with now than you’d desired, but you were fine with it. Had it been immediate and you had no opportunity to learn from Corporal Elaina where Sans hung out, you would have been distinctly more upset, but this was different.

She was up most nights and so it was easy to get the okay from her to go out. The second night you were there, she took you out of the barracks under the pretense of showing you more of the base.

It was a somewhat long walk-- maybe one and a half hours-- through the city of rubble. You realized about halfway through the walk that the forest you’d found so intriguing before was where she was leading you. She made basic small talk as you made your way to the thickness of the trees in the distance, mainly discussing what kind of training you would need to through to see where you’d be put. She mentioned that you’d only be doing basic training for your first month or two at the base, just to get settled in. “We won’t even change your tags yet,” she’d said.

“They don’t need to be,” you responded flatly.

“Of course they do,” Corporal Elaina laughed. “They’re Human tags. You can’t have Human tags as part of the Monster troops. Besides, your tags don’t even have your soul type on ‘em, which is a big thing around here.”

You’d frozen at that, looking at her with big eyes. Your heart had sank tremendously and there was a familiar splinter of concern within you. You wanted to opt out. There was no way you wanted to see what you were like deep down on the inside, let alone everyone else around you.

“You know, it’s actually pretty interesting to see your soul and to learn what it means. For instance, my soul’s yellow. Yellow souls are deeply rooted in justice.” She laughed. “Guess it makes sense why I’m a soldier, right? Used to be a police officer before this.”

You were too tense to actively engage by that point.

She spoke on, unbothered, already clearly used to your general unfriendliness. And she led you there.

It was a lonesome tree, tall and made of sturdy oak, with leaves that fanned out in beautiful greens that grew gray in the dim, dark night. It rested on a small hill with splatters of grass leading up to its small peak. The base of the tree was dusted by pale brown dirt. You felt warm by the way the tree reached towards the sky with fingers made of branches, twisting and fanning out to the stars as welcomingly as a mother’s arms after a long day. The only accent you found tainting the stunning scene was the shadowy silhouette of a skeleton leaning against the bark of the tree laxly.

And you realized that he had finally decided he would endlessly pester you for the rest of the time you were forced to interact with him. If you wanted to smoke, he had to know something new about you  _ and _ you had to verbally respond to him.

His rules. Stupid fucking rules.

You didn’t go too often, only about twice a week, even if you started getting irritable without any cigarettes. Besides, Elaina had to be the one on watch if you wanted to leave without questions, and she was set for only a few days a week. You tolerated him, and he annoyed you.

Excluding the skeleton and your gripes with his person, your transition to the Monsters was somewhat smooth. You avoiding Joseph’s husband like the plague, pretending to not witness him whenever the two of you were nearby. It made you too uncomfortable to even acknowledge him. It was so rare for you to see the end to something like this before-- usually if you saw something, your mind would start winding, but you could always end it because it didn’t matter. And over time, you would forget and you would move past it.

But clearly you couldn’t just forget this time. Each time you looked at the man, you were reminded that it wasn’t supposed to be you. You weren’t supposed to run out with Maycombe.

You were tired already. All you wanted was time to think about what to do.

You felt like the time you’d spent had dragged you down for years, but it had been hardly any at all. You had all the time in the world to reflect on it all. There were only a few days that stood out to you between the time Corporal Jean had told you about the soul necessities and when you actually found out about your soul.

The first interesting night only made you more tense.

Your hand had found the knob to the shower and turned the icy water off, stepping away like the rest of the women as another found the stall and took it. You wrapped your towel around yourself unaffected, grabbing your clothes. You dried yourself off and your thoughts began to slow down. You quickly dressed yourself and walked away, avoiding the other women. It was dark out, but you felt restless. The skeleton was an easy option to go when you were like that generally, just because your cigarettes were wonderfully distracting. That night, however, you had no interest in speaking to the ass.

You were annoyed.

Time to yourself was so sparse. Constantly you were around others. Often, when you’d walk to the skeleton, you’d run into others wanting a smoke too. Felicity was always around you when  you were at the barracks, and of course, training, eating, and most other things were swarmed by other soldiers.

In the dullness, you found yourself wandering. The coldness of the wind against your damp hair made you feel better. The chills were welcome, cooling your anger and freezing your stress. You tied your hair away from your face so the wet tendrils would whip about your face less. There were some other soldiers, standing while laughing with each other, others looking on to the distance. You knew some were on watch, but as long as you had a place to go, no one would bother you.

You regretted taking a shower, but all you could think to do was to work out. It was fine. You always had time to strengthen yourself. If you kept working, your mind would set itself back on track.

More often than not, you found yourself annoyed you weren’t strong enough.

When you walked inside the gym, you saw a few other stragglers doing bench press, running on treadmills, and lifting weights, among other things. You went for the pull-up bar. It was free, and you felt compelled to work on your arms. As you made your way there, a woman suddenly stepped in front of the bar with her arms crossed.

You vaguely recognized her as Ari, only because of her eyebrow piercing and gauges. Her hair had gotten shorter and choppier than it had before, fanning out every which way stick-straight. You knew she’d been training with you for the time you’d spent in Home Base, since she was part of Corporal Elaina’s crew, but you had to be entirely honest in that you hardly paid any attention to the other women training with you unless they specifically drew it.

Ari’s lip was jutted out and her brows were narrowed a tad. “I’ve been trying to get ahold of you,” she said blankly.

“Okay,” you replied.

“I’m figuring you out,” she explained. “I’ve been doing it since that first day.”

“Okay,” you repeated, pushing past her to get to the bar.

She huffed as you started doing your pull-ups, your muscles tight and straining as you brought yourself up and down.

“Yeah, I think you’re just like me. No different.”

You pulled yourself up.

“You’re hiding something.”

You fell back to the ground, irked. You crossed your arms and looked at Ari with your lips tightly pursed.

“Let’s talk outside,” she insisted.

“No,” you said stoically, marching away to find something else to do.

“Well, then I’ll just talk to you here in the open. I figured you’d want privacy, but this is fine. I don’t trust your intentions, ____ Harris. I don’t believe for a second you joined the Monsters because you want to help them. And I know that just by looking at you. I think everyone knows that. You’re here because of the other girl. The little one. Maycombe. Aren’t you? You follow her everywhere, and you just followed her here.”

You refused to reply, going to the bench press.

“She remind you of someone you used to know, Harris? She been your friend since you were kids? Trust me, I’ll figure it out. I’m going to figure you out. Who you are on the inside. I think I already know. I’ve seen people just like you before, and I know I’ll see them again.”

You closed your eyes then, doing your best to quell your irritation with the situation. Then you opened them, and began to work out again, pretending Ari didn’t exist.

“You can hide behind that as much as you like. But I know you, Harris. I know what you’re like inside.” Your heart tightened for a moment, and then you heard Ari walking away with a scoff.

And she didn’t come back for you that night.

From that point onwards, she became a point of priority for you to spot. You had no interest in getting caught by her again or cornered so she could figure you out or relate to you or intimidate you or do whatever she was trying to do. You kept your distance, and dreaded other things.

You’d never been so afraid of your soul in your life. There was a legitimate fear that was carved deep down in the blank spots of your mind that maybe you didn’t have one. And as a date was set for you to undergo the “simulation,” as Elaina called it, your heart increasingly sickened before you fell asleep.

It wasn’t your first experience with your soul, however. A week after Ari had confronted you, you were set down on a table with a monster doctor next to you. He’d assured you that it was completely painless and fine for when your soul was pulled out. They had tried to pull your soul out normally, and imagine your horror hidden deep down when they couldn’t. They tried to reassure you that it was somewhat normal, that that’s why some people needed the simulation. They said you were just too tough of a shell for the soul to come out without more coaxing.

Felicity’s had come out as a lime-green heart, glowing faintly. She stared at it with awe when she saw it, and held it in her hands gently. Konner was like you, with nothing. It was a bit of a relief to see at the very least; you weren’t the only one.

Part of you was glad that day, when your soul wouldn’t come out. Because you saw Ari looking at you, monitoring you, gauging you. She was testing to see if she was right about what she thought. Doing her absolute best.

The day was growing closer and closer. And that inner dread, cold and dark and strong, continued to grow. Elaina, too, had undergone what she dubbed “the simulation,” and did her best to soothe the horror she could perceive.

She only briefly described the process.

She claimed that it was like a dream, but personal to you, almost a test to yourself. A way for your soul to emerge from the barriers set by you. She said her vision had been full of color, and then she woke up to see her soul floating above her.

It still made you tense. There was no going around it alll.

Smoking, too, grew less stress-relieving.

Not only did you now have to avoid being caught by Ari, but you also had to tolerate the jabs of the skeleton, more intense than ever before.

The night before you were to find out your soul, the corporal went with you to go smoke. She encouraged it, seeing as it was somewhat of a big deal and an event like that could really pile on stress. You kept your typical manner plastered on thick, but by now she was entirely used to it and mainly talked to herself on the way there. When you’d get there, she’d mainly talk to Sans.

It was no different that night. You saw him slumped against the tree with a steady trail of smoke fizzing out from his teeth and skull. He was humming gently under his breath, letting his cigarette dance to the tune between his phalanges. It jumped from finger to finger, twirling and spinning with an uncanny grace. A life of its own was fully realized in his hand. The tune was somber in a sense, but you actually enjoyed it. It was soft under his deep voice, and it brought something inside of you to the surface just a bit.

“Bones,” Elaina called.

“hey, jean queen. and scarface.”

“Scarface?” Corporal Jean echoed, raising her brow as she tossed a pack of crackers at Sans. It hit his chest hard, and he sat up a bit, though his back was still slouchy.

“aw, sweet. and yeah,” he continued, eating a cracker as he threw a cigarette and lighter Elaina’s way, “i’m playing around with nicknames. i haven’t found one i like yet, and she’s no help. we’ve already gone through stony, grumble, hot-head, vrataski, quiet, pouty,  _ and _ grumpy. i’m really reaching here.”

“Well, who says she’s got to have a nickname?” Elaina asked.

“me.”

“I just call her Harris. I think that’s good enough.”

“it’s no fun, though. i need something with a kick. speaking of. you. scarface.”

You rolled your eyes hard, and looked at him with furrowed brows.

“yeesh, that’s one dirty look. sensitive about that, huh?”

“No,” you answered honestly. And then, you added, “You’re irritating.”

He gasped, placing a hand on his chest with his mouth agape. “i can’t believe you’d say something so nice. you want your smokes or not?”

“Obviously, I want them,” you grumbled.

“Whoa, four entire words? That’s like the most I hear in two days,” Elaina teased.

You ignored her.

“See, that’s how it usually goes,” she laughed, lighting her cigarette and tossing you the lighter. She shook her hair out and walked off a bit, looking at the trees. You envied her in that moment. She stood tall and planted her feet firmly into the ground she stood on. A strength that was undeniable and blatant. Not just physical, though-- Elaina was planted into reality just as tightly as the roots of the trees she stared at were.

“okay, then. so, let me see. what’s a good new question? i already know where you grew up, your favorite drink, your elementary school…”

“You sound like such a creeper,” Elaina said, turning back around. “Is this seriously what you’re sticking with?”

“uh, yeah. clearly. listen, i can’t just charge people with food, and you humans hardly ever have gold. i’m going to get fat and greedy if i keep charging people the same things. look at my figure, jean queen. i can’t get chunky.”   
“You’re literally just bones, Bones.”

“exactly, and i mean to keep it that way. anyways, where was i before i was so rudely interrupted… let’s see… how about… how many siblings do you have?”

You tensed up. How many did you have? Were you supposed to count Rich? What about Abby, was she allowed even though she wasn’t alive anymore? She would always be your sister, but how were you supposed to avoid further questioning the best? You were thinking too long now, you had to make a choice, and make one fast--

“One,” you said simply, extending your hand for a cigarette.

“brother or sister?”

You frowned, gesturing for your smokes again.

“fine, fine. but if you want more, you need to answer. here.” You snatched it from his hand, lighting it and putting it to your lips. The smoke twisted from your lips as you exhaled softly. 

“I’d better head back,” the corporal sighed.

“this early?”

“Yeah, takes like an hour to get back, and I should really be there for my shift of watch, you know.”

“laaame,” Sans said.

Elaina shrugged, walking your way. “You coming with?”

You shook your head. You were sure you’d want to smoke more, and leaving wouldn’t provide you that.

“Whatever. Be sure you’re back by the time we start training.”

“Yes, ma’am,” you said, sitting down and leaning against the hill.

“Good luck with this idiot,” she laughed.

Sans snickered in response, and with a quick wave, she turned on her heels and strolled away, a trail of smoke following her silhouette in the night air.

He left you in blissful silence for a long time, long enough that you finished your first cigarette and got a second.

You hated him, but you did respect that he understood you wanted quiet sometimes. It was nice, and it made you feel less tense when you slipped your fingers over your picture of Abby.

“so, harris, since scarface clearly isn’t going to stick, how’re you feeling?” Sans drawled.

You looked up at the stars, drawing your cigarette to your lips again. Then you shrugged, tilting your head a bit.

“really? not nervous for the soul stuff at all? not worried about your inner being?”

“Nope,” you lied, closing your eyes.

“you’re a bad liar. you talk way more when you get nervous.”

“Sure,” you replied sarcastically.

“i’m telling you.”

You knew he had no way of knowing that, and you were tired, so you closed your eyes and pretended to be alone again.

“oh-kay,” he sighed after a few minutes. “another dead-end conversation. knock-knock.”

You turned to him and frowned, to which he grinned.

“you’re supposed to say ‘who’s there,’ you know.”

You rolled your eyes and turned away again.

“knock-knock. ‘who’s there, sans?’” He was talking to himself in a falsetto, clearly miming you. he’d done this before a few other times. “tank. ‘tank who?’ you’re welcome. i know you know these cigarettes come at a cost to my sanity.”

You rolled your eyes harder, rubbing your forehead.

“seriously, though. back to the soul sim? it’s not that bad. it’s just you inside your own head.”

You couldn’t help yourself. “You have no way of knowing that,” you replied flatly. “You’re a monster.”

“what, you think there are  _ no cases _ of monsters having a hard time seeing their souls? sure, it’s rare, but speaking from personal experience, it’s entirely possible. listen. it’s weird, having it all stuffed down like that to the point even you don’t know who you are, but it’s not that bad. the sim puts a few situations from your life down, and sees how you react. then, next thing you know, you’re up, and it’s all fine. souls don’t even say that much anyways.”

You looked at him skeptically.

“no, i’m serious. souls aren’t your mind. they’re your character. they represent your strongest trait out of all the rest. for instance, jean queen has a yellow soul. she’s most concerned with justice. my soul’s white, but it’s got a glow that represents  _ my _ strongest trait.”

You stared at him, waiting for him to continue.

“you’re gonna have to ask me what it is if you want to know.”

You turned away.

He laughed. “i’m trying to lighten the mood. i swear to god, one of these days, you’ll let that shield you’re holding in front of yourself down. i’m not a bad dude.”

“I don’t care,” you said. Then you paused as your cigarette fizzled out. “And I have a sister.”

You took the fresh cigarette from his hands, lighting it, and then you began to walk away.

“it’ll be fine, harris. you may be a stone-cold bitch, but i’m telling you. you’ve got nothing to worry about.”

You turned back, unsure whether you should feel angry or consoled. He was staring at you.

“see you tomorrow,” he said, and to that, you pressed your lips together tightly and left.

He may have been an asshole, but there were worse things in the world.

And just like that, it was time to see your soul.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank u all so much for reading ily <3

**Author's Note:**

> we back to angst yall im going back to my roots


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